


she's god (and I found her)

by ceruleanstorm



Series: upper west side [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Dating, Developing Relationship, F/F, Mental Health Issues, Modern AU, Upper West Side, additional tags and warnings specific to each chapter in a/n, adora publishes a book while catra goes back to school, bow's family antics, creative writer adora, expansion of the universe, horse girl adora and crazy cat lady catra, how many tv references can i make? lets find out, i don't know about you but i am having a blast, illustrator catra, one shot series, pathetic millenial au, please read A/N, tattoo artist catra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2020-11-26 12:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 156,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20930000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleanstorm/pseuds/ceruleanstorm
Summary: After thirteen years apart, Catra found Adora- or Adora found Catra- when she ended up her Uber driver in the upper west side of Bright Moon.After spending a month and half getting to know- or reknow- each other, learning about Catra's dream to be a tattoo artists and Adora's dream to publish a book about lesbian princesses, and then deciding to team up, Catra and Adora find themselves falling for each other. Hard.After Catra almost "dies" in a car crash, she and Adora decide to give dating a try.After all they've been through, what could possibly go wrong? After all, the hardest part is over.Right?[a oneshot series set after the story upper west side]current story: useless phrases (finally safe for me to fall)summary: When a blizzard hits Bright Moon and Adora reveals she’s been struggling with side pain for the last three days, Catra has to drive her up to the hospital in the snow. But as it turns out, and as all good storms reveal, acute appendicitis hasn’t been the only thing Adora’s been hiding from Catra.





	1. begin again (on a wednesday in a cafe)

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooooo I'm back on my bullshit! Specifically, my upper west side bullshit!
> 
> Because so many of you were kind enough to give so much love and support to my au, I've decided to write more! Starting with a oneshot series of little silvers of there lives picking up after the end of upper west side. I want to thank each and every one of you for all the support you've given me in the past; I would not have gotten to this really fun stage if it weren't for you guys. So this is 100% for you guys. 
> 
> Speaking of thank yous and shout outs- please check out the art the amazing [artbutitsgay](https://princessofgayskull.tumblr.com/post/188172960130/artbutitsgay-i-had-to-draw-this-drunk-adora) did for the story! it's a scene of drunk Adora and I canNOT GET OVER IT. it's amazing. Thank you so much. 
> 
> okay here we go! (sorry if there's mistakes in this I'm still shaking over all that s4 content that dropped today)
> 
> Oh! Big trigger warning here for talk about self harm!

If Catra had any sort of notion of how much dating would take her back to a fucking _ shopping _ mall, she might- key word, _ might- _ have done more than shove those annoying little shits of second thoughts to the back of her mind. Three times! Three god damn times! That’s how many times for a date (okay, the first time she wasn’t dating, but the whole point of that trip was to get her a date) Catra found herself dragging the soles of her boots over the dirty beige tiles of the god-fucking-awful and subjecting her ears to whatever remix of pop vomit featuring the shrill-scaped tantrum of some two year old, as her the tips of her stiletto nails drew blood from her palm, her hands balled up into an angry fist and the other curled into the fraying plaster of her cast. Showing up to her girlfriend with broken nails and a sleeve dripping red wasn’t, okay, _ the _ best idea since her extensive dysfunctional disposition wasn’t exactly the perfect match to her girlfriend’s extensive anxiety issues. Catra had a pretty good idea of what conclusions her date would break her damn knees jumping to, but that was better than showing up as security held her in handcuffs saying “Hey babe, guess what? I snapped, and ruined the date you planned by beating the ever living shit out of some thin lipped bitch kiosk saleswoman because she was fourth goddamn person in this building who tried to sell me a flattening iron in the last _ ten _minutes, so that’s why we’re getting kicked out. How about Chili’s instead?”

_ And that’s how I get my ass dumped a month and a half into my first real relationship. Nice fucking work, Catra! _

Why did those sales idiots keeping looking at_ her_ anyway? Did all of them have some collective death wish? ‘Cause they just what, hated their lives and hated their jobs? Boo fucking who! In the shitty hand of cards they’d been dealt, awareness was still one dignity they could claim, at least for some of these idiots. ‘Cause God, if Catra was some twink in glasses selling botox at a shopping mall kiosk, duh she’d be begging for a swift mercy killing. Now, intelligence?

“Hello miss, would you like to try-”

“No,” Catra hissed in a low growl, throwing up the finger to Sales Idiot #5 of the evening with her good hand as she stormed away trying not to gag on the putrid smell of White Lady Perfume. 

Intelligence was the last fucking thing anyone in this trash mall had.

_ You know where _ I _ grew up, most people had the common decency to leave you the fuck alone when they accidently made eye contact with you! But not here in this grand city where everyone shits glitter and gold out of their assholes! _

Not here where everyone had something Catra didn’t. Whether it was money or privilege. Fame or prestige. A name that held actual worth and weight when rubbed in someone’s face. Or, _ or, _all of the fucking above. 

Not here where everyone had a leg up on Catra’s only talent or a head start at her own dream. 

Not here. Not in Bright Moon. And _ not _ in this gross shopping mall where she couldn’t even find her stupid girl friend!

Swallowing the irritating urge- not _ again, _ damn it!- to cry like a fucking baby, Catra exhaled roughly and whipped out her phone, scrolling through a wall of text messages to find their designated meeting place. Her nails crept up the glass at a snail’s pace, applying unrelenting pressure against the already cracking glass as she tried to focus long enough to find what she was looking for. Fuck, if there was ever a metaphor for Catra’s crappy state of mind right now. “The west stairwell? Where the _ fuck _ is the west stairwell?”

This was her third trip around the building, for fuck’s sake. She couldn’t keep going in circles for the rest of the night, trying to figure out what was west and what was east and whether any of this was all worth it, whether she shouldn’t call it quits and just ditch like the fucking loser she was. Whether she should just leave her girlfriend in the dust and head for the other side of town where none of these assholes could take pride in contributing to massive fucking tantrum she really, _ really _wanted to throw instead of risking a migraine by taking another lap in this shit hole. 

Catra blinked. Ditching, huh? Just the idea of shoving the nearest doors open and marching off into the stale June air broke her from a state of depersonalization and sent a shiver of relaxation down her tense, aching bitch of a back. She could run away from this shitty place and all the shitty people without so much as looking back. She could run off to the nearest liquor store and drown out all her guilt and all her pain- from her back, from her brain, from said guilt- in a bottle of tequila as she fell unconscious on some patch of grass, laugh-crying through the burn in her throat about what a terrible fucking girlfriend she turned out to be who couldn’t even cope with one bad day.

_ But, _ Catra let her incisors sink into the bed of her tongue, _ that’s something the _ old _ me would do. Run away and get fucking wasted and not even say anything because I hate myself _ that _ much. And that’s why I ruin things that are good for me. _

Sighing in defeat and disappointment, Catra stumbled backwards onto the ledge of fake fern and let out a sigh of exhaustion. God, how the self improvement track had turned about to be such a fucking scam! Catra was no better now, sitting here glaring at the cracks in her boots and ripping plastic leaves off public property, thaen she was six weeks ago when she set her mind to it, when she decided that somewhere in the massive pile of shit that was her personality there was maybe, _ maybe, _ someone worth loving. Worth becoming. _ What a load of bullshit, _her thoughts echoed empty in her head as her vision, focused on her cast, blurred.

Because even after all that work, all the obsessing and dissociating that she mistook for self actualizing, Catra _ still _hated herself. And no matter how hard she tried, at the end of the day she wasn’t about to stand in the way of herself acting on those “self-destructive” behaviors that made her hate her own fucking guts. It’s not like her will or whatever was even strong enough to stop her anyway. It’s not like it was even strong enough to get her the perfume-pretzel-food court fog of the Bright Moon Shopping Mall.

“Fuck, I can’t do this,” Catra muttered, curling her knees to her chest and curling her fingernails through her leather sleeves and into the muscles of her arms. “Sorry A-”

An abrupt laugh cut her words at the tongue and cut her self pity down the center. Perking up so fast the gnarled cicatrices of her back roared in protest, Catra shoved the burning pain- both mental and physical- to the corners of her mind. “Adora?”

Catra would know that dumb laugh anywhere. Golden like daylight, the sound breathed a little life back into her, a gut punch of a reminder of why she braved a hell like this in the first damn place. So Adora was here, well around here anyways - Catra ran an absentminded tongue across her bottom lip as her eyes scanned her surroundings looking for that tell-tale blonde ponytail poof - and she hadn’t just abandoned her to wander around lost in the _ mall _like their relationship was a cruel series of pranks they’d consented to pull on each other.

_ You’re such an idiot, _ a voice at the forefront of her mind scowled, _ Adora’s dumb enough to care about you and you can’t even give her the benefit of the doubt! _

No smart ass reply loaded up in her conscience for that cutting comment. Catra was too busy focused on her hunt and this time her prey wasn’t her fractured essence. Thank fucking God, Catra’s shoulder relaxed just the slightest. A night with Adora, yeah it wasn’t a promise that those flashing impulses of self abuse and self wreckage would leave her the fuck alone, but it put off giving in for maybe a few hours; that dork was one hell of a distraction. That is, if Catra could find her.

Adora's laugh echoed off the tile once again, Catra exhaling as she caught sight of a red leather jacket and matching Converse lounging on the nearby staircase -_ so _ that _ must be the west stairwell, Jesus Christ- _ camouflaged discreetly by another ugly plastic plant. _ Why are there so many of those fucking things anyway? _

Biting back a grin, Catra hoisted herself off the ledge and tried to ignore the deep sense of shame and embarrassment that flooded her system as she ran a hand through her curls, bringing the most impressive, cleaner ones (What? She was basically working two jobs and going to school and doing this whole dating thing, it's not like she had all the time in the world to take a shower.) to the front, covering the permanent silver streaks by her ears. _ Oh my god, what are you? Some brainless Hallmark movie love interest? Cute. _

"Shut the fuck up," she whispered through gritted teeth. If her inner worst critic wasn't going to keep her damn metaphorical mouth shut during this date, then this night was looking to be just as fucking miserable as the rest of her day had been. 

So far, the hardest and most infuriating thing about dating Adora, other than her roommates somehow _ always _ walking in on them making out, was how much Catra ended up caring about their relationship. Caring about shit was not her M.O. Caring was a waste of time that left her soul shattered like glass on concrete. And caring about other _ people _? Well then she was just asking to be fucked over and abandoned all in one hit. 

Now there was someone in her life Catra wanted more than just to stomach, someone she wanted to get know, to care about and fuck, even care _ for _ . Adora didn’t just open that door just a crack, she blew it wide open, showing Catra that she had the capacity to care not just about her girlfriend, but about the people around her. And that she already _ did _ care for the people around her; whether it was turning off the stove so Entrapta didn’t set one of her ponytails on fire (again) rummaging around in the upper cabinet, or spending three hours burning the shit out of herself with a hot glue gun helping Scorpia hand bedazzle miniskirts for all her Queens learning all the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s song “You Need to Calm Down” against her will because the other woman had it on repeat, Catra was suddenly wide open to the fact that she didn’t share some nonchalant shadow of a connection with her roommates. They were her- wow the word made her want to both vomit and cry at the same time- friends. And Adora wasn’t some nameless girl she found herself in bed with after blacking out at a lame ass party she’d stumbled into during an epic emotional spiral that she only knew how to solve using alcohol and strangers. Adora woke something up inside her, some shit deep buried deep inside her split soul, something with the faint taste of love (ugh she was gonna vomit/cry again) only not that fucking terrifying. Catra knew that despite all the flashing red lights in her mind she was just going to let the universe tie the strings of the story together with a triple fucking knot. 

It was terrifying, what was happening to her, what she was realizing about herself. Worse was the embarrassment that hid itself as rage in her mind of what she wanted, of how she wanted to be wanted by Adora. It was like going ninety at midnight with the headlights off and her eyes squeezed shut. Catra had already broken one bone letting curiosity take the wheel, and in the interest of _ not _ shattering another one, she forced a neutral expression and stopped messing with the fabric around her tits as she walked up to the stairs. Her inner bitch was right; none of these losers - or Adora (excluded under the pretense that being a _ dork _was not the same thing as a loser)- needed to know just how much she fucking cared or how she actually wanted to look nice on this dumb date. 

'Cause caring chipped away at the inside of her rusting armor, exposing her soul as vulnerable and weak. As constantly losing control. So duh, she didn't want it to make it some show for the public to gawk at. 

_ But I'm fucking here, aren't I? I didn't run away like some dick. I didn't flood Adora's phone with crappy excuses. _ After the shittiest possible day, Catra cared enough to show up to this date and walk up to the staircase where Adora was sitting. And she had no fucking idea- especially after a day of being gawked at like some idiot freak- whether that made her strong, or weak like she always had been.

“Hey Adora.” Catra’s voice came out as a raspy half growl, her scoffing morphing into a frown the second the sound of her words hit her ears. _ Great, I sound like I’ve been crying all fucking day. Jesus, I was just screaming in my car, that's all! Course she’s gonna read me like a fucking book and make me talk about it. _An uncomfortable sense of relief trickled through the bitterness in her chest that had been hanging around since three in the afternoon. Talking about it would probably help, especially with Adora’s patience for her and all. Didn’t mean she wanted too. Eyes glued to the skylights on the ceiling, Catra bit down on her tongue waiting for Adora’s perky response to clash against her strained senses.

But there was no response from her usually chatty girlfriend. Fifteen seconds passed before it registered in Catra’s brain Adora wasn’t talking for once. _ Wait, what? Did I walk up to the wrong fucking person? Shit! _ Gaze dropping at fifty miles an hour, Catra sighed in a tangled mixture of annoyance and reprieve when she saw who was sitting on the bottom step. “God fucking damn it,.” she breathed. Yep, that was her girlfriend alright. Headphones in, laughing at whatever was on her phone’s screen, chewing absentmindedly on the straw coming from an empty Icee cup. _ Guess she’s been waiting for a while. Fuck, I'm an asshole. _

Kicking her sneaker like it was an old reflex (it was) Catra tried again, “Hey! Hello? Adora?”

“Wha-hUH?” 

_ Flick! _

Catra couldn’t help fucking help it, her casual snort at Adora’s surprise crescendoed into actual laughter when her girlfriend jumped three feet in surprise and red juice from her melted Icee splashed her full on in the face. “Fuck, _ sorry _ !” She threw her hands over mouth as Adora recoiled, blinked rapidly. Watching the way her nose scrunched up, Catra’s heart jumped and that smile she’d been fighting like hell was back. Ugh. Why did Adora have to chip away at her indestructible defenses protecting her pissed off mood just by being, what, herself? _ Ugh, and why do I let her? _

“Ow, the straw hit the top of my mouth!” groaned Adora, taking one glance at the straw she pulled out from between her cherry stained lips, _ right _before sticking it back in to chew on.

_ Ugh, that’s why. Sexy dumbass. _

“Again, sorry about that.” Catra rolled her eyes, another pretty stupid attempt not to smile- she was in a bad mood! She was pissed off and she _ deserved _to be pissed off, so she’d being staying pissed off Adora's date be damned- as she plopped down in the spot next to Adora. “What are you even doing? Why didn’t you hear me calling your name?”

Ocean eyes narrowed, Catra’s skeptical and practiced expression reflected in them. Was Adora wearing eyeliner? Subtle touch Catra knew she’d be sketching out later ‘cause Jesus fucking Christ she looked beautiful. Even if the smudged black cosmetic was totally crooked. _ Next her I must look like shit. _ “Hi to you too, babe.” The corner of Adora’s mouth perked up.

Catra’s insides pratically fucking melted at that word from a heat that spread within her body like wild fire and she forced herself to gaze with boredom at her fingernails. Babe. Thanks to her shit memory, she couldn’t say exactly when in the past couple of weeks they started dropping pet names. She _ could _ say that it was yours truly who started it. They were facetiming, going back and forth about publishing details Adora was stressing over, and the word had just slipped out of her mouth. She could’ve kicked herself for being so stupid and so fucking reckless, but it ended up being the _ one _time Catra was glad she never thought anything through. ‘Cause Adora’s reaction, the way her cheeks and chest were the legit prettiest shade of red Catra had ever seen, the way she stuttered through her next words and for the next five minutes, that small smile of hers that lingered the rest of the call, made Catra’s whole fucking life. And she did that. She made Adora feel that.

Except her little slip up must’ve let Adora think she could do it too, and now the way too comfortable shoe was on the other foot. If Adora keeps pulling cute romantic shit like this, Catra's bad mood is fucked.

_ Too bad you need it to feel in control, _the self imposed critic/bitch taunted. 

"Catra?" 

Adora’s voice slammed the brakes on the fog of dissociation that was currently threatening to take over all of Catra’s senses- and blur reality just for fucking fun- and Catra exhaled through her nose. All day, all _ fucking _ day, this had been happening, she’d been completely zoning out like she was fucking catatonic. Because it was easier, the go to, for her mind than to straight up deal with her actual emotions and bother processing them, you know, like a functioning person would. Because when nothing _ seemed _ real, as if every single molecule of her perception had been moved half an inch to the left, then the self loathing, anger, the fury and the self hatred that had her panties all up in a bunch didn’t seem real either. The easy way out. The only way out, for someone as fucked up as her. 

Catra dared to steal a glance at Adora, the expression on her soft and tired face (despite the mascara the dark circles around her eyes were present as ever, maybe even darker, psuedo-bruises radiating purple and yellow, and the desire to help Adora relax for once in her life almost blinded her red eyed fury) was a full on punch in the gut. She could see it in those ocean eyes how worried Adora was now that she’d shown up all pissy and guarded. Her friends gave her crap for being oblivious to everything and kinda dumb, and yeah, she totally was blind sided when they were in Weaver’s hell/care, but now? Now Adora was learning her signals, her slight changes in facial expression, her good days and her bad. 

“I’m fine.” Catra’s bark came out of her mouth worse than her bite and she almost kicked herself, hoping the pain of her sole meeting her shin would knock some sense into her. _ Um, what the fuck? She didn’t do anything! _ Knowing that apparently was one thing, not taking her it out on Adora was going to be another, _ very _challenging thing. One she barely had the energy for.

Why was she like this?

Adora’s gaze flickered down. “Oh,” she replied, pursing her lips and forcing a shrug. Without any notice, she grabbed the railing of the stairs and stood up. Catra’s heart fell like a rock in her stomach when Adora didn’t reach for her hand. _ Nice job asshole. _ “You wanna go, the place is just down there-”

“Adora-” Catra jumped up, almost tripping on herself and her words. “Shit, I’m- wait, what the hell were you watching?”

Adora raised an eyebrow and her line of sight followed Catra’s to her still active phone screen. “Huh? Oh! It’s a video of this horse playing in the snow and he loves it _ so _ much and he won’t come inside because it’s his first ever time seeing snow and he’s just _ so _happy, lookit Catra!” Adora’s happy high pitched rambling should’ve given Catra the sensory migraine of the fucking century, but she actually found herself swallowing laughter. Adora was pretty cute when she was excited like this, waving the phone in her face so Catra could only catch glimpses of said horse, bouncing on the balls of her heels like a spaz. 

Catra suspected Adora might be a bit of horse girl with all the Swift Wind stuff in She Ra, and with her _ slight _ obsession when they were kids (oof, and now she was _ dating _ a horse girl, that might be even more embarrassing than _ being _the horse girl) but this was a whole new level. “Pfft, I didn’t know you were such a dork about horses. That’s pretty embarrassing, Adora,” she teased, trying and failing to keep the amusement out of her voice. God, at least she didn’t giggle. Or do that squeak laugh Adora adored, Catra shuddered just thinking about it.

“Excuse me, I was like the best equestrian in all of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Massachuesetts _ and _New York!” scoffed Adora. The proud smile on her face faded as her skin paled. “And I just told you I rode horses professionally. And for fun. Out loud.” Sighing, she smacked her forehead with her hand.

“You’re a dork.” Catra found herself laughing- and squeaking, good God- as Adora peeked out from under her shame, a small smile on her face that sent a strike of lightning through her heart and the grip of anger closing around her throat, suffocating the air from her lungs. No, nope, no fucking way was Catra ready to breath right just yet. Biting down on her lip with her fangs for teeth to stop her god awful laughter, Catra placed the tip of her nail on Adora’s forehead, shifting her hand away from her face. Reassuming control and comforting her girlfriend. Catra breathed in through her nostrils, pasting on a smirk.

Adora put her hand down and rolled her eyes, a pretty pink blush blooming on her cheeks and neck. She took a small step back and Catra’s finger lost connection with her forehead, not before leaving a small maroon line in her porcelain skin. Giving a dramatic shrug, Adora sighed again, locking eyes with Catra. Then she smiled like the teasing amounted to just that: teasing. Like she was used to the way Catra got under her skin, like she was comfortable having her there. Watching her try and shake off her own embarrassment, her own uncomfortable mood, Catra realized something that almost knocked the fucking air out of her lungs. 

_ Holy shit. _

Catra didn’t_ want _ to be angry. Not this time around anyway. She just _ thought _ she wanted to, but standing in front of her girlfriend she realized it was a faux leash around her spiraling thoughts and destructive decisions. She didn’t _ want _ to lash out or push Adora away. She _ needed _ to feel some sense of control, since days like this, where she was shoved back in the dirt and left there to pick herself up, dry her tears and lick her wounds clean, were a painful bitch of reminder that she never, _ ever _was in control. Not over her circumstances, not over the people she was forced to be around, not over who she could make stay and who she could throw out. For God’s sake, she could barely control her own actions, let alone her own feelings. So if she could just keep a hold on this, keep Adora from taking control of this too…

“Catra?” Again, Adora’s voice shoved her back into reality.

“Yeah?”

“You okay? If you don’t want to hang out tonight-”

“Adora, I said I’m _ fine,” _bit Catra, throwing an irritated glance her way. Of course Adora couldn’t just take her word/bullshit lie for it. Course she had to ask again right as she was on the brink of some sort of break through. Course Catra’s spectrum of emotions were sending her back forth between a rock and fucking hard place. 

_ Like that break through would’ve changed jack shit. If you can’t change or give up control for someone like her than you’re basically a lost cause. _

Catra dug her teeth deeper in her lips. Her wavering gaze then focused on Adora, and she let up force right before bittersweet copper filled the top of her tongue. _ Wonder if Adora had a sucky day. _ Oh, she wouldn’t be asking, not anytime soon and not anytime that was over text, not when she couldn’t escape if Adora turned the question on her. She wanted to know, God she just wanted to _ talk _ to Adora, but being the fucking headcase she was, she knew she could only have it on her own terms. And she knew that that was going to be her- _ their- _ undoing. 

“You look kinda tired, Adora.” Those were the words that came out. Lame as shit. At least it was something. 

“I’m _ exhausted.” _Adora exhaled, her shoulders falling as she rocked on her heels, sticking her hands in her back pockets. “But you don’t look much better.”

Catra crossed her arms- _ don’t not have a meltdown right here and now. Seriously, she doesn’t need to know what happened, you should be able to handle it yourself. It’s not like shit like it’s been happening to you you whole pathetic life, oh wait!- _and cocked her head, forcing a grin. “Screw you I look fucking fantastic tired. You didn’t plan laser tag or some shit, right?”

“Well, I would _ crush _you at Laser tag,” bragged Adora.

“Doubtful.”

Rolling her eyes, Adora gestured with her shoulder and hopped down the steps. “Just follow me, smart ass.”

_ Since when does Adora say smart ass? _ Catra curled her fingers into her cast, something that had become a nervous- and annoying- habit over the last six weeks, lagging a step or two behind Adora. She _ could _walk next to her and keeping clueing blonde Nancy Drew over here into the miserable excuse of a day she had, or she could take this excuse to try and focus on something else entirely, like her girlfriend’s ass.

_ Now that’s a smart ass. _

“You coming?” 

Now it was Catra’s turn to roll her eyes back in her head. Sliding forward, the heavy footsteps of her boots fell in time with the lighter one of Adora’s Converse. Converse, ugh, so much better than the heels she almost sprained both ankles in ‘cause that idiot didn’t know how to walk in them. Adora turned her head in the slightest, a knowing, almost cocky smile on her face (well at least _ one _of them was happy) as Catra stared, her eyes narrowing trying to figure out whatever frozen yogurt build-a-bear double date Adora planned that she was going to have grit her teeth to keep from fucking screaming through, when cold, soft fingers met the tips of her own. 

“What?” Catra hissed more than spoke, yanking her hand away from Adora on a quick instinct. Instant regret, the instinct that always came after, flooded her system as she soon as she realized what shit she had just pulled. 

“Huh, Catra-” Uh oh. The hurt look was back. Son of fucking bitch! Adora held her own hand close, taking a step back, before the pain on her face turned into confusion. “I was just trying to hold your hand.” Catra blinked. Right. Hand holding. Like couples do. Like they were. “You usually don’t- you’ve never had a problem with this, I mean you’re not as clingy in public as you are when it’s just the two of us and I don’t know what’s going on with you- you know what, never mind. Let’s just keep walking, it’s only a few stores that way.” She deflated, her ponytail swishing as she turned forward, and a pain shot up from Catra’s stomach to her heart and throat. 

So much for not pushing Adora away. _ Keep acting like this and she’ll dump your ass right here, Jauregui. _

“Adora, it’s not that big of a deal.” _ Oh yeah, _ that’s _ an apology. _ “You just surprised me, okay?” _ And I do want to hold your hand, I never want to stop holding your hand, it’s just I can’t have you take this from me, take control away from me, like you take everything else. _

Adora’s ocean eyes were a lot colder when she looked back, but then she nodded, adjusted her jacket and kept walking, that same purpose in her step. With a nod, she asked, “Is it a migraine?”

“Huh?” 

“You don’t like to be touched when you’re having a migraine,” Adora said like it was obvious (and yeah, in retrospect, it was) and Catra thought back to all the nights in the past few weeks when her head threatened to split her into two seperate pieces and Adora was forced to spend the night on their couch in the dim glow of her laptop, hoping to God they wouldn’t get a surprise appearance from Entrapta, off early from her shift at MegaMart and needing her bed back. 

_ No, _ Catra wanted to say. She wanted to tell Adora the truth, that art school was terrible, that her mentor thought she was a failure, that she sucked so much she couldn’t even be a good girlfriend, but something kept those words in her throat. That something being that suffocating need for control, god damnit. “Duh, it’s a migraine,” she replied, a little heavy on the defense. _ Fucking liar. _

“Oh,” Adora perked up, “then tonight’s actually gonna be really perfect.” She twirled around, walking backwards a few steps before stopping in front of a glass door, that cocky smile back and bright, taunting Catra like this was all in all, just another game of cat and mouse. 

“Ugh, Adora what did you do-” But before Catra could finish asking what the hell was happening or even look up to see the store’s sign to try and figure out what the fuck she was in for, Adora was pulling her- oh, so it looked like somebody was choosing to flat out ignoring the no touching rule they’d literally _ just _established- into the storefront, laughing with secret joy. “Adora!”

“Here we are!”

_ What the hell? _ Catra meant to give the gross little room they’d just entered a quick up and down look around so she could go back to glaring daggers at her girlfriend, but that plan had to hit the brakes when she began to really take it in. _ Am I in old lady hell? Where the fuck did Adora bring me? _

The place was basically smaller than her cruddy apartment’s kitchen; four pale green walls with soft white paneling below, a couple of chairs that definitely were brought over from a estate sale were positioned against the window facing the rest of the mall. A desk stood at the corner of the room and behind it, a hickory colored door harboring a tiny window Catra couldn’t make anything out of. To her left was a rack of tacky t-shirts, backpacks, and other various grandmother type knick-knacks, all branded with horrid, colorful designs that Catra almost had to shield her eyes from. Two cardboard boxes, rough around the edges and bulging with weight, sat beneath the merchandise, the word “DONTIONS DONATIONS” written across the fronts in permanent marker that was starting to fade. Okay, none of this garbage helped Catra figure out where she was about to spend a minimum of two useless hours. 

_ Weird, _was Catra’s next thought as she leaned her body to the right to get a look at what kind of nursing home freak show must be over there, when instead she caught sight of something she stared at on Amazon’s website right on her phone when her rideshares were wasting her time and running late: a tall cat condo combined with a scratching tower. She took a tiny step forward as her eyes scanned the tan pillar. A twinge of disappointment ran down her spine, spreading through her chest. The condo was empty; guess no one was home. Guess the shittiness of her shitty day continued. 

“Hi,” Adora was saying to the girl behind the desk, “it’s 7.50 per person for an hour right? I read that on your website, but I just wanted to be sure.” 

“Yes ma’am. Will it just be you two?” 

Catra turned on the heel of her boot, sighing as she walked up behind Adora. One second of eye contact with the Plain Jane working the computer and Catra savored in the way she swallowed all skittish and spooked. Nice to know standing next to her goodie-two-shoes girlfriend that she still packed a fucking punch. “Adora,” she flicked a piece of flaxen hair, whispering harshly in her ear, “what the fuck are we doing here?”

“You’ll see,” Adora swatted at her before pulling her wallet out of her pocket, “just hang on, okay?” With that enlightening explanation, Adora handed the girl- Molly, her name tag said- her credit card. “Yeah, just the two of us.” 

Molly nodded. “Okay, that’ll be 15.45.”

_ Huh?! _

“Hey, wait! What the hell Adora, since when are you covering the whole damn thing?” demanded Catra when it connected in her mind what Adora was doing. God, first Adora was going to take control of Catra’s own damn mood, but now she was also going to take her pride in the same move? Fucking low blow. They’d agreed- they’d _ promised- _ that whenever they went out or bought food or spent money on literally _ anything _they’d split the damn cost! And now what? Adora was going to stomp on that agreement just because Catra pissed her off earlier by acting like a toddler.

_ Fuck her but that does actually make sense. _ Still! What the _ fuck _did Adora think she was pulling?

“Well it’s not like you were ready to pay or anything. Don’t worry, I’ll make _ sure _you get me back. They have Auntie Anne’s pretzels here, you can buy me one after we’re done.” Adora shrugged as she re-pocketed her wallet. Catra grumbled, and didn’t miss the wild look of speculation in Molly’s eyes as she glanced between them.

“God, what is with you and those dumb pretzels?”

“If you could just both sign in on this sheet right here, please list your phone number and your email if you’d like to receive updates on promotionals, specials and adopt-”

“_ Ugh. _” Catra pushed forward and ripped the pen from Molly’s extended hand, ignoring Adora’s irritating little sigh as she scribbled down her name. 

“_ Cat _ -ra, huh? Hmm, you’ll do good in there.” Molly pursed her lips and Adora took over writing her name. Adora then made Catra stand there rolling her eyes- she just wanted this to be _ over, _ for God's sake _ \- _ while she wrote out her full name, her phone number, _ and _ her email address. 

“What? I want their emails. It sounds interesting.” Ocean eyes caught split ones in a half second standoff. _ Nerd. _

“When you go in, there will be a hand washing station to your left. We ask that you use it _ thoroughly _ before you touch or play with any of the animals-” _ Animals? What the fuck? _“-we ask you not to be too rough with them, and respect their wishes and their space. But other than that please have lots of fun and give them lots of love!” Molly finished her instructions and stood up to open the door behind her, gesturing for the two of them to come around. Catra swallowed, and without thinking, grabbed Adora’s hand. What the hell were they in for? “I’ll be out here if you need anything, feel free to come get me.” 

“_ Now _are you gonna tell what the fuck is going on, Adora?” Catra dug her fingernails into the skin and in between the bones of her hand as the walked in. 

“Just look, Catra!” Adora giggled, shoving her deeper into the fray with her shoulder.

“At what-” Yeah, Catra didn’t finish asking her question. It was answered right as she actually bothered to look through the door they’d walked through. Her ears were met the sounds of mewls and fast skittering, and the rattling of feathery toys and bells jingling. Little blurs of white, ivory, orange and caramel danced in the corners of her eyes, jumping from obstacle to obstacle. To top this secret little heaven off, the faint putrid smell of a litter box.

_ What the... _

Oh her bad mood was _ so _fucked. ‘Cause Adora had just bought her an hour of being a room full of cats. 

_

Adora knew she had to _ crush _Catra with this next date. 

Now that they were a few weeks into their relationship (_ relationship! _ As in they were _ dating! _ Adora still found herself smiling like an idiot at random times in the day thinking about it) they found themselves falling into a comfortable rhythm; since Catra, through one circumstance after another, planned their first date, she granted Adora leadership of the next one. “Dude, I planned the first one,” Catra told her over the phone and Adora bit back a smile, “and I dunno, it kinda feels unfair to you for me to call all the shots. You should pick the next one.” And so Adora did. Their second she opted for a cheap option: piggybacking off her friends’ trip to the bowling alley, doing so with enough sense to rent her and Catra a lane on the other end of the court where they were free from Sea Hawk betting strangers he could beat them and Bow getting a bowling ball dropped on him _ four _separate times on accident and one time on purpose. 

Still, even from far away they were reluctant audience members and feeling a sense of remorse and worry that the date completely sucked (“It did not _ suck, _ Adora. It was really fucking fun crushing you at bowling. And watching you try to win me something at the crane machine. I think Entrapta stole that little cat thing you won me- after what, four tries?- and if she did, I'm going to choke her with her own god damn hair”) as well embarrassed of her friends, Adora passed the torch and since then, this had become the pattern. Catra would plan a date, then Adora. It wasn’t like Adora had ever managed to date another girl steadily- _ thank you traumatic past- _ so she couldn’t say exactly how other couples did this; she knew most girlfriends didn’t have binders full of date ideas just because they’d seen their favorite character on a cop comedy show do it like that and she also knew she wasn’t about to take advice from the loud, wagering, bowling ball dropping group of people she actually called her friends.

Besides, this was nice. Adora may have taken things to the organized, neurotic level she took everything to, but at least it took pressure off of Catra to do things Adora wasn’t sure she was ready to do as the team they were becoming. Things like compromise and problem solve and be more open about emotions. Where they were, taking things slow and taking each issue at a time, it was safe for something so raw and so new. Adora was sure of that much. And Catra?

Catra was proving to be actually romantic when it came to dating. Or maybe a better, more accurate word was thoughtful. Yeah, thoughtful.

It’s not that Adora doubted Catra’s ability to be a good girlfriend- well, maybe she did _ sometimes _ like when she was checking the traffic radars for car accidents mid panic attack because _ somebody _ hadn’t texted back in five hours like she said she was going to- it was more that she just didn’t expect Catra to be the type of person to care about the romance in where they went and what they did when they had a night free of their work, the bakery, and her classes. Her natural inclination for this kind of thing was almost more surprising than her excitement to be seen with Adora in public _ , a soft, child like side _ of her Adora hadn’t seen in her since they were kids. 

Catra’s style may not have been roses, chocolates, and stuffed dollar store teddy bears cuddling hand written notes, but it still had Adora brainstorming date night ideas in her binder marked “Date Night” (God, she hoped Catra never found this) in her spare time that would wow the bitter sarcasm out of her beautiful girlfriend, that would amaze her in all the ways Catra herself amazed Adora. 

Although they’d both be taking things to the next level activity wise in the following weeks, the first night had been without a doubt, perfect. At least in Adora’s mind it was. In every sense she’d committed it to memory, from pictures Catra was reluctant to be a part of (“You better not be showing these off to Glitter and Rainbow or I swear to God I’ll strangle you- don’t make that face, I’m fucking serious!” but of course she caved after one or two more drinks, leaving Adora with a _ stunning _ new lock screen) to an extensive journal entry she prayed no one ever find. Then there was the three hours of interrogation via her roommates- and Frosta, Perfuma, and Mermista who just happened to staying the night over at the apartment for “girl time”- where Adora was denied the pleasure of her bed for the living room spotlight. Her friends’ reward for not letting her pass out happy as a damn clam and still a little tipsy was a 34 minute speech delivered with swollen lips and increments of burps ‘cause her friends wanted _ every single detail _about her first date with Catra; mostly she used her floor time to brag about her girlfriend’s bravery and initiative to go back to art school and start shadowing a professional tattoo artist, something she would have made a giant scene about at the bar if Catra, biting back a smile, hadn’t started shoving pretzels into her mouth to keep her quiet. 

“Wait, Julien?” Bow asked from his marshmallowed position between Perfuma and Glimmer on their couch. “You don’t mean Julien Davis, the owner of Sanctuary Ink? _ That’s _my brother! Catra’s working with my brother? What- why did neither of them tell me?”

“Uh… I dunno,” hiccuped Adora, squinting at one of the ceiling light bulbs. Her knees crumbled a few seconds later, and she laughed as she hit the floor, nothing in the great dark bitter asshole that was this universe able to destroy her bad mood. After another interrogation of whether she was okay (“I’m great!” Another burp. “I’m dating Catra! She’s so _ amazing _ …Ugh, and _ I _ should not have had that many Long Island Iced Teas)” the initial interrogation ended right after that when her phone started to ring. Catra had called her, feigning some emergency to get out of the exact same conversation with Scorpia and Entrapta. By two in the morning they were still talking on the phone. Adora had sobered up and was lounging in her pajamas on her bed as they laughed about how they scared the crap out of a bunch of Bright Moon tourists when making out on that bench after stumbling out of the bar. And that wasn’t totally their fault, it’s not like their Lyft driver would have been okay with them using the backseat. Or would he… it didn’t matter, they didn’t ask. 

The challenge began three dates after. For one reason or another, Catra raised the stakes by going from regular dates to intricate and personalized ones. Instead of taking Adora to a restaurant or a candle making class or something else classically romantic like a carnival (Adora always smirked at this idea of hers. She could practically hear the little “blegh” sound Catra made), Catra drove to a little town about an hour out of Bright Moon under the guise Catra found another bar she wanted to go. Adora should’ve known something was up by the way her girlfriend bit her lip to keep from smiling the whole drive; since when could Catra just nonchalantly smile like that? Not that Adora didn’t enjoy having something to stare at for an hour and a half, but it looking back it should’ve tipped her off. 

When they pulled up to “the bar,” Catra opened her door and Adora almost fainted. She definitely tripped getting out of the car. Because it was the farthest thing from a bar. Catra had driven all the way out here to spend time at a locally owned bookstore that also happened to be a cafe! 

“There’s a cat that lives here and everyth-” Catra started to explain only to have the rest of the sentence crushed out of her when Adora smothered her in a hug. 

“Catra, this is _ amazing! _I-I- you’re-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” said Catra as she pushed a giggling Adora away, fighting a smile of her own. “Go kill as much time as you want in there. You can tell me how great I am later, Miss Published Freaking Author.”

“Thank you, Miss. Published Fucking Illustrator.”

Catra let her roam for another two hours before convincing her to come away from the shelves so they could sit down at the cafe. “C’mon I wanna _ talk _ to you.” Adora, surrounded by a pile of vintage novels by her own making, couldn’t resist the little pout on her girlfriend’s face. Oh so she _ did _ want to spend time with her; turns out the _ go roam to your nerdy heart’s desire _ actually meant _ please don’t leave me in the dust of this dusty ass store. _ “I mean I knew you liked crummy old books but holy shit, Adora.” 

“Well it looks like _ you’ve _been busy.” Adora bit her lip from laughing as her eyes fell on the great tabby cat now sleeping soundly in Catra’s arms. Looks like she’d found the cat that lived here after all. Or maybe the cat found her?

“What? I’m pretty sure Emeowly Dickinson is allowed in the cafe.” The tabby purred awake at the sound of her voice, meowing in tandem with her words. 

“But I thought you wanted to talk to _ me? _” laughed Adora, giving Catra a taste of her own medicine with faux pouty eyes of her own. 

Emeowly Dickinson ended up enjoying a little ‘Cat Frap’ on their table while she and Catra wasted away the rest of the night together, chatting about their day and flicking little pieces of leftover cheesecake at each other until Emeowly’s owner came around to tell them they were closing. 

_ Catra cared about me enough to take me somewhere really meaningful, _ Adora remembered thinking on the drive back where she tried not to drift off to the 90’s latin music Catra was blasting to keep herself awake. And that thought was exactly why Adora needed to prove she could do it too. God, she _ had _to prove it too, if the heated, irrational competitor inside her had anything to say about. Bow would tell her that that wasn’t a super healthy take on her relationship with Catra, but what did that grad student specializing in counseling know?

To the ends of the world she would’ve gone to find the date that would blow Catra away twice the shock the bookstore had on her- and she almost had to. Nothing, nada, _ zero; _ there was not a single thing Adora could dream up that Catra might enjoy like she enjoyed running her fingers over the dust of shelves. Not a bar or restaurant or museum, or even a place where they taught you how to throw hatchets seem to hit the note Adora was looking for, leaving her back in square one of questioning (like Catra didn’t already know how to throw a hatchet) what her girlfriend would love so much she might cry. To make matters even more difficult, Catra hated all of Bright Moon and hated almost _ everything else _. 

“Can’t believe she didn’t hate the bookstore.” Adora sighed over the noise of Bow and Glimmer quoting Schitt’s Creek in the living room, flipping her “Date Night Binder” closed. Time was closing in. The next opening they both shared in their schedules was in three days; if she had to make a reservation at this unknown place- well in a city like Bright Moon, let’s just say she was fucked. “Wait- _ why _ did she like the bookstore?”

Well, there was the fact that there were few people roaming the stacks and none of them were interested in talking to her and then there was the- oh.

Emeowly Dickinson (Hmm, kinda sounded like Entrapta named her). The tabby cat she cradled like a young child for almost as long as they were there.

Catra had mentioned the cat- offhand, how chill of her- when they were outside, then as soon as they were inside, she bolted. Adora didn’t notice where she went off to, too busy marveling at the wonders of word before her, but she’d bet the first thing she did was go look for that cat. 

Ironically enough, Catra had a thing for cats. Or, they had a thing for her. The animal was just drawn to her as if she was a beam of light in a dark night (well, to Adora she was), just as she was drawn to them. And for a long time, Adora suspected it had little to do with her namesake, and everything to do with her disposition.

Catra’s affinity for cats was the oldest fact Adora knew about her girlfriend, in fact.

The day they met, in what Adora would later learn was only about twenty four hours after Catra discovered her birth mother to be dead, Catra refused to talk to anyone. She wouldn’t address the social service worker or any of the other children, and she’d rather throw a wordless tantrum at Mrs. Weaver than speak. Adora would learn thirteen years later that one of the most significant reasons for this was because Catra, although technically fluent in English, wasn't as used to it as she was used to speaking Spanish and was more comfortable with it than the alternative. For weeks her main mode of communication included hissing, spitting, and making crude gestures at other children. Her poor relationship with Weaver began with her refusal to speak, as Catra desperately fought against her physical demands and impositions. 

Ugh, Adora shuddered, all she had to do was close her eyes and she could still hear her old caretaker’s violent screams echoing off the tattered wallpaper with anger four year old Adora had never seen the likes of. _ “You’re not with her anymore! Speak _ English _ or there will be destructive consequences, you insolent brat!” _

Mrs. Weaver may not have yelled at Catra in that manner as a form of public humiliation there at the dinner table in front of the children for many years to come, but Adora would never forget that first night.

Determined to push them all away and forge a strange, lonely path through her confusion and grief, Catra engaged with none of them outside of her tantrums. But little Adora’s interest was piqued by the other girl, and while the other foster kids saw an explosion waiting to happen with unkempt and unbrushed hair, Adora saw a potential friend. Catra was always jealous of Adora’s supposed popularity with the other foster children, but Adora knew the real truth of the matter. Before Catra, there was no one, and without Catra, it would’ve stayed that way. 

It took a while to wear Catra down; she didn’t want to play, she didn’t want to talk or whisper secret stories with her new bunkmate. She wanted _ nothing _ to do with Adora.

_ Ain’t that a pattern? _Adora snorted as she ran her finger over the stickers on her binder, too lost in these memories to bother being in the present. 

Only when Adora discovered Whiskers, a small stuffed cat and the only toy Catra brought with her to the foster home did the page turn on their relationship at long last.

_ “Do you like cats?” _ Adora asked, scooting closer to her on her bed sheet. Catra was curled up in on herself at the end of her bed as if she was one. “ _ I like cats, too. I like dogs better, but I’ve never met-” _

_ “Don’t touch that!” _Catra sprung up and ripped the toy from Adora’s grip, causing her to scream and fall off the bed, hitting her butt. 

“_ Hey!” _

_ “You asked for it. ‘Cause you’re a dummy.” _

Four year old Adora narrowed her eyes, rubbing the newly blossoming bruise on her knee, “_ Hey… _ you _ can talk.” _ Then she gasped in realization, _ “That means you can play with me!” _

_ “Go away, dummy.” _Catra growled, starting to sink back to her place on the bed. But she didn’t hit or swat at her in a turn of new events, so Adora saw her chance and took it.

_ “Do you… do you wanna play cats with me?” _asked a hesitant Adora. At first, no answer. Great, so this hadn’t worked either. When was she going to crack this girl? Maybe she was just doomed to be friendless forever, she thought, wrapping her hands around her legs. Maybe Lonnie was right. Maybe she did suck, whatever that meant. Mrs. Weaver said it was a bad word and that if she said it, she’d wash her mouth out with soap like she washed Lonnie’s. 

_ “Cats?” _ Catra’s head popped up then, shy and skeptical. _ “How would we play _ cats? _ You mean pretend?” _

_ “Yeah, pretend!” _There was a difference?

Still untrusting, Catra climbed down, Whiskers safe in her clutch, from the bed and crawled next to Adora, blinking up at her with wide split eyes. _ “Meow,” _ Adora started and she lifted a paw, pretending to run her tongue up it. Bursting out into laughter full of life, Catra shook her head.

_ “You think _ that’s _ being a cat? Wow, you really are a dummy. Here, let me show you how to do it right.” _

And so the deal was sealed. That simple game of pretend tied Adora and Catra with a thick, unbreakable string, one that she now knew could stand the test of time and the strength of so much anguish and so much resentment, and the annihilation that came from all the healing and all the forgiveness.

Right up until they were about nine years old and decided that the game was way too babyish, Catra and Adora pretended to be cats, or sometimes- because Catra insisted she was better at being the cat- Adora would be her loving owner and Catra would follow her, on her hands and knees, around meowing and purring (And Catra wondered why her character in She Ra ended up being a feline hybrid). But that wasn’t the only way her love for cats broke through her shy, selective and later sarcastic personality; whenever there was supposedly a stray one roaming around their small town, Adora would be dragged up and down the streets that they played and loitered on, behind dumpsters and in bushes with stickers looking for the hypothetical animal way past their 5 o’clock curfew. Weaver always scolded her for indulging Catra in this way (and it beared noting that she did much, _ much, _ worse than scold Catra), yet if they got to see the cat, if the little kitty pranced right up to Catra’s open arms and she got to give them all the love she held in her small body for even just a few minutes, then it was more than worth all the trouble they went to. In their small corner of the world where she was miserable, cats were a lively, _ kind, _and tangible reminder that what lay beyond 913 Ginger Street, Hazing, Arizona was not as cruel as what life her subjected her to over and over. That’s why when Adora and Catra sat on their bottom bunk, cuddled up in the blanket the shared as Adora pretended to feed Whiskers a late night snack, Catra always said without fail that she would be getting a cat, no matter what family adopted them. 

Thirteen years later, and Adora’s world collided once again with Catra’s. Underneath chinks of armor created by a punk rock aesthetic, practical fangs and claws were _ five _ cat tattoos. Adora thought it safe to assume her love of the animal had stayed true, had stayed innocent. 

She’d also noticed cats were a way to get her girlfriend’s attention. In the spare moments she was bored (or more likely procrastinating) and their text conversations had hit a lull, she’d send videos of animals doing funny things because she didn’t want to seem disinterested or “disinteresting” as she once joked. This was a risky move because Catra did _ not _ seem like the kind of person who wanted to use forty five seconds of her attention span to watch a golden retriever run at light speed from the back of a buick into a lake. (And yet she was dating Adora, ha!) But Catra _ loved _the cat videos Adora sent. She would always pay way more attention to any clip that featured a furry little feline. It was the only time in their texts Catra would full on gush. 

She perked up when they were mentioned in conversation and although Adora was granted seldom looks through Catra’s current sketchbook, they pages were full of different breeds, shapes, colors, and sizes. A couple of times Adora had glanced over her shoulder to see her chewing on her lip with one incisor, casually scrolling through the local shelter’s website or on PetCo.com looking at cat toys. 

Adora sat up straight with a striking sense of surety. “Cats!” she exclaimed to an apartment that was paying no mind to her problem or her process, “That’s it, that’s my bookstore! Oh, thank God.” She slumped back into her seat right as Glimmer, who was still apparently talking Schitt’s Creek with Bow, yelled from the living room in the voice of Moira Rose before bursting out into laughter, “Bookstore? Whatever could you possibly be talking about, Adora?”

Celebrating would have to wait, however, because _ finding _ a cat centered activity they could do for their date would prove to be almost as tedious and impossible as figuring out Catra’s bookstore. No one in Adora’s friend group owned a cat she could borrow for an evening; obviously if they did that would be Catra’s favorite person and she might not even be dating Adora, or bother giving her a second glance. The Bright Moon shelter was _ definitely _out, for both their sanity and for their apartments as well. She didn’t trust herself or Catra not come home to expasarated roommates and landlords with five different animals each.

Could she rent one from a stranger? Was that even an option? What would Adora even say in that Craigslist ad? “One nice cat needed for a date. Girlfriend really likes cats but doesn’t have one. Will just play with the cat while we drink wine and talk. Cannot promise cat’s return because my GF might steal them. Here’s my contact info.” 

Two and a half days out from the date, Adora was close to giving up and postponing the idea entirely. She was buried in the mess of work that was tweaking her novel at the advice of her literary agent so a professional editor wouldn’t chew all her hard work up and spit it out, and as a result, wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t working out, and wasn’t showering. At this rate, it would be a miracle if she changed out of her reeking pajamas and showed up to this mystery date at all instead of just lying on her couch in defeat- she wasn’t an author, she was a terrible girlfriend, and now a barely functioning person- scrolling pathetically through her tumblr. 

She could just picture Catra taking in her crappy response while she chewed on her three day old Bright Moon U sleep shirt, scrolling through her blog: the way her eyebrows would furl and her nose would scrunch as she scoffed. “Hey babe, I can’t actually handle the pressure of publishing a novel, or keep our relationship alive and healthy by doing something as amazing as the things you do for me, so I can’t make it to this date I never got around to planning because I- well I just suck in general. So if you wanted to dump me, I’d be crushed and I’d never get out of bed again, but I’d understand.” 

So what a surprise it was when her answer came as a result of her gross and sweaty couch pity party. “_ The Cozy Cat Cafe!” _ the recurring advertisement on her tumblr read, _ “Come play with cats here at the Bright Moon Shopping Centre!” _

“Huh?” Adora’s shirt fell out of her mouth, “This is probably a scam.” A scam that lay in the internet hoarding her search histories and listening in on her private panicked rants. A scam, she realized as she clicked anyways, that looked to be the real deal. A nice store in the nearby mall where she could pay a reasonable price for her and Catra to spend an hour or two playing with cats. _ Oh, the binder is so coming out now- ugh, I mean after. After I take a shower. I knew it was bad but- oh, God. Editing is not a good look for me. _

One shower and date planning session later, Adora was relieved in every sense of the word. Not only did she get to take a reasonable break from the work that as this rate was gonna end with her shiny and bald it had her tearing out her hair so much, but she also got to plan a night that she knew was going to show Catra that she was committed to being a good girlfriend and she wanted Catra to enjoy being with her just as much as Adora enjoyed being with her. This night of playing with kitties and feeding them treats- for an amazing deal too- as they enjoyed each other’s company would be a testament to how far they’d come together, and a reward for the excruciating work life was pulling out of them lately. 

_ And she’s acting like this? _ Was one of Adora’s first thoughts when Catra found her slurping on a long gone icee on the West Stairwell. A permanent scowl on her face, frazzled frizzy curls, and an enraged look in her eyes, Adora was thrown aback. _ What is going on? _she wanted to ask, but Catra dodged every word and every look with practiced ease. Like she didn’t want to be here. 

Adora’s heart shook with realization. _ She doesn’t want to be here. That’s why she won’t talk to me or uncurl her fists and it’s why she hasn’t called me princess once. Did I do something wrong? Or not do something at all? _

What a loss she’d found herself at now. Something had pissed Catra off and now she was desperate to make it contagious. And it was working. As they walked side by side, meticulous details, research, copulus plans- amazing stickers!- in her binder might as well be ripped out and shredded just like every other thing Adora put effort into. Catra was throwing all her hard work away, daring to show up 27 minutes late and guarded as hell. She was wrecking the semblance of Adora’s newfound good mood, snipping away at the strings keeping her together. This date and that dumb compliation of horse videos were the only things helping her keep face after Veronica’s latest comment about her editing, and that’s why Adora marched forward, refusing to let Catra off the hook. She needed this right now. She needed Catra right now.

Catra stepped away when Adora reached out for something else to hold onto, shaking her to her very core. Because it stranded Adora back in the lonely, suffocating feeling she treaded water in before they dated, right as they both stood on the edge but neither jumping. The time that stretched for forever where Adora couldn’t hold or touch Catra like she wanted to, like she was hers. 

A migraine, she said it was. But Adora wasn’t that stupid. There was something in those split eyes of hers that screamed “_Something’s wrong! Something went the fuck wrong!” _As much as it hurt Adora to be pushed away, as angry as it made her that this was the attitude Catra showed up when life had lately been so detrimental to both of them, she wanted to know what was wrong with her. She wanted to be _told _what was wrong with Catra. She wanted to know if it was her fault and if there was a way to fix it. So she walked into _The Cozy Cat Cafe, _hoping that when Molly opened the door to the cats Catra’s doors would open too. 

“_ Now _ are you gonna tell what the fuck is going on, Adora?” Adora gasped, too enthralled to indulge her grumpy ( _ not for long _) girlfriend. Cozy was the vibe of the overall room and the two dens that branched from the north and south walls. There were several couches, all worn and weathered, fabric torn at by determined sharp claws. Like Molly said, the hand washing station was to their left, and to their right, another one of those beige towers thingies. Giggling, Adora reached out with her finger to nuzzle the bright pink nose of the tiny kitten sleeping within its straw walls. 

“Just look, Catra!” They were everywhere, the cats. Pawing at the modest furniture, sleeping on a variety of beds all fluffed to their liking, lounging around near their water and food bowls, wading through a tiny plastic swimming pool full of tiny balls. Old and young, plump and slim. Black, white, grey, orange, tan, and all in between. A tiny little heaven of about thirteen cats, theirs for a whole hour.

“At what- holy _ shit. _” 

Adora bit back a smile as she watched the shock on her girlfriend’s face fade into wonder. Wonder. Huh, that wasn’t really an expression she saw on Catra’s face almost ever. She could get used to it. 

Hands clasped over her mouth, Catra stumbled into the center of the room, the surrounding cats peeking up at her, and made a shaky 360. “Okay, what- what the _ fuck _is happening, Adora?” 

A swift step forward and Adora was there to catch Catra melting. _ Looks like I found her bookstore, alright. _“This place is called The Cozy Cat Cafe.”

“Dumb name.” Catra snorted, but her line of sight had fallen to a fluffy black and white currently circling another scratching post, its tail twitching. 

“Yeah, so you basically come here to play with cats,” Adora continued with her explanation. “Do you like it?”

“I- how-I-” she blinked, split eyes wide and body shaking against hers. _ Oh no, _ Adora grimaced amongst a chorus of meows and one sneeze from the black and white cat. _ I broke Catra. _

Adora remembered in that moment how overwhelming it had been to walk into a place full of her deepest, most treasured love, into a room full of the very items that kept her clinging to life in her lowest, most desperate moments. The intense feeling was like that of having a panic attack, and Adora had plenty of those to know just the way they sucked the air from every single cell in her body. Catra had fixed this at the bookstore by, well, by being Catra and shoving Adora into the shelves. Adora solved this by pushing her by the shoulder back to the cat tower thing at the front of the room. “Look, there’s a kitten here. He or she- or-or they we don’t know- is sleeping!”

“He’s a Russian Blue,” mumbled Catra before something dire snapped her out of it and she slapped her casted hand over her mouth with a _ whack! _as if she was embarrassed just to know that fact, squeaking as plaster collided with skin.

“A what?” Adora asking, trying to prompt her to say more.

“Jesus- holy shit- fuck- look, Adora.” Catra was now whacking her, “There’s two of them, look!” 

Cocking her head, Adora looked into the tower where she found another kitten curled right in the crook of the other in one super soft looking pile. Then, the other little head popped out, sleepy eyes glaring with a sense of judgment for having been woken up. “Aw!” Adora squealed like she was nine years old again. What was better than two kittens sleeping together? Tempted to take a picture to send all braggy to Bow and Glimmer, Adora reached out her hand again to boop his little nose when the kitten opened his mouth and yawned. Adora could feel her heart melting in her chest. The walls of ice around Catra's had to be melting, too, right? “Do you think they’re siblings?”

“No, the other one is a completely different breed, Adora. I’m thinking a European Shorthair mix. And it’s _ brown.” _Catra smirked. Still she leaned on Adora for support. 

“They’re looking out for each other.” She smiled at her girlfriend. Adora didn’t know what prompted her to say that, something so reminiscent of the promise she’d made her when they were so young. _ I look out for you, and you look out for me. _ Maybe it’s because she was standing here so close to Catra watching these two innocent _ babies _ cuddle each other for a sense of safety and warmth and just thinking about how it was them against the _ entire _ world brought up some _ very _intense and strangled emotions. Maybe it’s because she wanted to remind Catra that her promise still stood for what it was worth; whatever was going on with her, well Adora probably couldn’t fix it, but she wanted to help shoulder it. “Hey, you good?” Adora nudged her shoulder and squeezed her hand.

“Yeah.” Catra’s gaze dropped as she squeezed back. The way her voice faltered drove a crack through Adora’s heart. _ She’s lying. _

“Let’s go wash our hands so we can actually _ play _ with these cats,” Adora said. Okay, if she’d known Catra would be in _ such _a bad place tonight, she might have settled for a quiet movie night in one of their apartments. What happened to her today? She wondered as she watched Catra wash her hand and flick warm soapy water off her other fingers, waiting for her turn at the sink. Was she hurt? Did she- did she hurt someone else? Did something happen with Scorpia or Entrapta or with a passenger-

“Your turn, Adora.”

“Oh!” She perked up from where she was slouching on the metal counter, moving to wash her hands. As she did so Catra stayed by her side, perveying the other miscellaneous items on the surface. Grunting, she picked up one of the glass jars marked treats and sniffed them before making a face.

“What?” Adora asked as she turned off the faucet. “Don’t tell me cat treats can go bad?”

This earned her a massive eye roll. “They shouldn’t be using these. I’ve never seen these and they smell like shit.” 

_ Doesn’t- doesn’t all animal food? _ Adora didn’t know; the only animal she actually spent time around were Mara’s horses, and then the answer was a big fat yes, everything did smell like shit. _ Also does she go around at the store sniffing cat treats? _

Catra stuck her face deeper in the jar. “Is this fucking _ dog _food? Blegh.” She slammed the jar down.

“Guess we’ll just have to use the other ones.” 

With a shrug, Catra’s gaze was once again pulled to the cats themselves. A few were beginning to gather at her feet, either drawn to the promise of yummy treats or drawn to Catra and her tendency to slam and bang things. Hopefully, they were ready to do some of that serious animal healing Bow and Perfuma were talking about _ all the time _. 

“I didn’t know you knew so many things about cat stuff, Catra.” Doing her best not sound too much like a smart ass, Adora casually remarked as she followed her girlfriend to the nearest couch, making sure to grab one of the jars Catra had not dismissed. She doubted these cats would give her an inch of the attention they’d give Catra without an incentive. 

Catra rolled her split eyes again, plopping down on the couch and spreading her legs. “Pfft, I know a _ normal _ amount about an animal I haven’t ever owned.” One cat, a orange and white striped little guy with stubby little legs jumped up, and made a beeline for Catra’s lap. _ Me too, _ Adora thought, trying to swallow her _ completely _ inappropriate arousal at the way her girlfriend was sitting. Orange-and-white was followed by the same black-and-white feline ( _ Oh! Tuxedo cat! I know that one!) _ from earlier _ , _who meowed with great dignity to announce his presence as he took the other leg. A faint ghost of a smile appeared on Catra’s face. 

“I know lots of stuff about horses,” tried Adora.

“Oh, I bet you do,” Catra snorted. Sighing, Adora let it go for the moment. She was never going to get anywhere at this rate. After all, _ she _was the one who brought Catra here. Instead of another question, Adora folded her hands in her lap, the treats gathering nervous sweat in her closed hand. As a few moments passed, she started watching the gentle, hypnotizing movements of Catra’s hand against tuxedo cat’s fur. There was a far away look in her split eyes, as if they were made of glass, merely reflecting the world around her instead of seeing what was there.

_ What is going on inside her head? _Adora thought as something nudged her hand. “Oh!” she laughed, looking down to see the tubby orange cat had found the treats she’d been harbouring. “Uh, here you go.” With shy, shaking fingers, Adora reached out only for the little guy to jump and gobble it right up. 

“Wow,” Adora exhaled, her heart jumping against her ribcage, “you were hungry little...guy...”

Cats were never Adora's forte. Whereas every single one, stray or collared, had an instant soul bond with Catra, they tended to ignore her altogether, in a way that both stung and seemed to be 100% on purpose. Of course why pay attention to Adora when Catra was _ right _there; an ironic turn of events given how the way the two of them were treated as children came close to bleeding into their adulthood. Wandering all those alleys only to be harshly rejected by some snobby starving fur bucket was not 8 year old Adora’s idea of fun and the more times she got a cat’s ass stuck in her face after trying-and failing- to pet it, the more the bitter feelings between her and cats became mutual.

_ “Why don’t they like me, Catra?” _Adora would tug on Catra’s sleeve while they made their way back home, Adora butt hurt (and actually hurt from scratches up and down her arms) from having not received a seal of approval- again. 

_ “No one likes you, tonta” _Catra would always giggle and say in return. 

_ “Wait, don’t you like me?” _ Then Adora would stop them in their tracks, her eyes narrowing.

The deep shade of red that colored Catra’s cheeks as she sputtered _ “I- No, I don’t like you!” _ was clear as day in Adora’s memories. Pushing Adora away from her, she’d storm off in a huff that would last until they got back to Weaver’s and the other girl would need help cleaning the wounds on arms. While it was safe to say they wrestled with innocent- and prohibited- crushes in different ways, Catra’s method of running away left Adora more hurt than being on the receiving end of _ every _ cat’s disdain.

It wasn’t until Mara that Adora got to meet the animal she loved. Things could not have been more awkward between her new appointed guardian who wanted nothing to do with parenting and the young preteen who wanted nothing more than a real mother; they seemed to have nothing in common with the exception of an unsaid background in personal tragedy. But Mara loved horses and she owned horses, at ranches in all the places she’d lived in the country, horses she introduced to Adora as they traveled. Horses Adora fell in love with as she learned to ride, as Mara coached her into one of the best riders in the nation. Of course, it had been years since she’d ridden (Mara’s sudden and harrowing death kind of put a dent in the fun of putting on riding boots) but more often than not she found herself tempted to go up to Perfuma’s family’s farm, just spend a couple hours brushing manes and feeding carrots and sugar cubes to hungry mouths.

A horse’s behavior she could predict and understand. A cat’s? Pfft, Adora would have better luck understanding Mandarin Chinese. 

“Do I- do I keep giving him more?” panicked Adora. Fat Orange Man (no, that was _ literally _ the name on his silver tag, she saw the closer he got to her face) was digging his claws- and leaning all his weight- into her jeans, chasing the hand she pulled away. Three treats he’d scarfed down already. He was just so big! There had to be a limit, right? If Adora gave this cat too many nummies in the name of attention and something- dear God, let it _ not- _ happened, would Catra _ kill _her?

Catra looked up from tuxedo cat, who was busy purring and nuzzling her stomach. “Uh, I’d go with no. Jesus Christ, what the hell is Molly out there even feeding him?”

“Uhh-” Now Fat Orange Man’s unsheathed claws were in her boob. _ Oh God, oh God. Is this why they are always calling cats bastards in memes? _

“God, Adora- just-” Catra turned, pushing tuxedo cat away and earning a scorned meow as she held out her hand for the rest of the treats, “give them to me.”

Reaching over a meowing cat, Adora happily did as she was told, dropping them into Catra’s waiting palm. Tuxedo cat perked up at this, suddenly in a forgiving mood, inching off the treasured lap in pursuit. Catra fed him one by one, whispering sweet nothings to him in Spanish lost on Adora. Sighing with unprompted exhaustion, she found herself leaning back on the couch and rubbed at her eyes. Of course, Fat Orange Man lost his interest just as suddenly as he found it, and he hopped back down, lounging off to another corner of the room to sulk, giving that Tuxedo boy a moment all to himself._ And another one rejects me. And Catra’s not talking to me. _ Adora bit back another sigh, trying- but failing- to hang on to the positive like Bow was always telling her to do. _ At least I get a pretzel out of this. _

“You have an audience,” smirked Adora, itching at the back of her throat with her tongue. At Catra’s feet a few more had gathered in patient worship. Again, of the treats or of Catra, Adora couldn’t say. Those little aliens would probably settle for either.

“Yeah.” The corner of Catra’s mouth turned up. Okay, they were getting closer to an actual smile. “Could get used to this.”

_ The worship or the cats? _

“Hey, do you remember that book you used to read all the time in the school library?” Adora asked. This idea had come out of nowhere, but thank god for it. Turns out she had one more arrow in her quiver, and one more shot at landing a blow in Catra’s armor. If this didn’t make a crack, then she could throw in the towel and really let it rest. 

Scoffing, Catra rolled her head back. “Please don’t bring up that dumb library book, babe.”

_ Babe! Babe! That’s totally progress!! _ Adora almost jumped in celebration, but it was a good thing she didn’t; she would’ve kicked one of the five cats sitting at Catra’s boots, pissed off Catra in doing so, and spooked her all in one stupid blow of a move. “You had that thing _ memorized. _ I wouldn’t be surprised if you still do. _ ” _

Elementary school was a time of torture for both of them. In different ways, of course, but hell nonetheless. Adora was dubbed a gifted child after a couple of school issued tests in kindergarten, much to Mrs. Weaver’s delight and her villainous desire to put the weight of the world in gold on Adora’s shoulders. Thus the abusive, sadistic relationship with perfection and its unattainability began on a developmentally approved note. For Catra, it wasn’t about chasing straight A’s and awards that brought in funds for Weaver’s home, but the plight of a bright but bilingual child in a monolingual, right-handed world _ and _ the nightmares of home that never stopped. Some teachers showed Catra a pitiful mercy, others truly adored and loved her like every child deserves to be, like Catra _ deserved _to be. Yet she still struggled in English centered classes and strayed from the very books Adora devoured. 

While Adora tore through their sad, underfunded public school library book by book and raced through literary levels, Catra read one book and one book only until the third grade. One from the Eyewitness series, the one about cats. Picking through it, Catra learned every breed, every factoid, every bit of notable history about the animal, strengthening her English and her love for them. She would bombard Adora with information over and over as if she was trying to teach her until the point of annoyance. She’d throw open the fraying book on their bed and draw the pictures on any paper she could find with so much ease and talent other kids accused her of tracing. She checked out and renewed the book so many damn times that Adora made the wrong move of accusing her of stealing it from her precious library. 

“God, of course you would bring _ that _up.” Catra shuddered. Adora couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or from the backlash of painful memories. Or the migraine she was lying about. 

“What, you don’t have to be embarrassed.” Adora nudged her, stifling a sneeze. When Catra opened her mouth to protest some more, she cut her off, “I’m serious, Catra. Having a deep genuine love and knowledge of something doesn’t wreck your reputation of being a badass. Even if that thing is, you know, cats.”

A solid minute went by before Catra responded, her own claws digging into the mountain of fur around tuxedo cat’s neck. “I’m just not used to it.”

“Liking something?”

“Feeling happy.”

It was like the air had been sucked, violent and tortured, straight from Adora’s lungs in that moment, her heart and soul shattering as if they were made of fragile glass. Easy as it was to be blinded by the idea that Catra’s abhorrent behavior and punk attitude were a matter of personal choice, Adora was victim to the truth all too well. Losing her mother, living for years as Weaver’s prey and then as Hordak’s pawn, couch surfing and jumping from jobs like it was a game of the ‘floor is lava,’ her life was not the kind that molded happy, vulnerable people. No, life chewed Catra up no matter how hard she fought and spit her back out as all sharp edges Adora now cut herself on. And who was to say that wasn’t completely fair? Adora had played a major role in creating the woman before her. She helped make the very visage she just couldn’t seem to break by turning her back on her when they were eleven. Where once it was them versus the world, Adora’s actions, her lack of resolve in fighting harder for Catra, made it become the world against Catra. Sitting here now, Adora realized how stuck Catra was in that lonely, cold mindset.

_ It’s not a lot, but I’m here for her now. I can fix this. _Adora thought with resolve. Yes, there was no fixing her mistakes that lived forever in the past, but she could control what happened in the here and now. Whether it was the sour taste of guilt in her mouth or the aching in her heart for her girlfriend, Adora reached out on instinct for Catra’s freezing hand, squeezing when she took it without hesitation this time around. “Hey,” Adora’s voice cracked and she forced a smile, “You’ll get used to it.”

Catra looked up at her and her split, tortured eyes rang with such familiarity. There she was again: the young, brave girl Adora admired beyond compare, still alive and fighting somewhere deep down inside her. _ You promise? _blue and gold gems asked. Begged.

“I promise.” Adora nodded. _ And if I have to throw you in this room and lock the door every weekend until we can get you a cat, I will so do that. _

Catra’s left incisor caught her lip, her eyes searching Adora’s, the moment heavy with the air of vulnerability. A quiet shiver ran up Adora’s back when she realized that besides the cats, they had this room to themselves. No one else was here, much to her own shock. It was just her and Catra. Just her and Catra. If Adora wanted to give her a taste of happiness, there was nothing- _ nothing- _ but the judgemental eyes of their new feline friends to hold her back. And at that daring thought, Adora’s hands just moved on their own, catching Catra’s jawline as her lips caught the taste of salt and copper, Catra’s hands catching her neck midway.

Sighing into the kiss, Adora brushed a stray curl behind Catra’s studded ear. Sharp teeth caught her bottom lip and traitorous moan escaped her as she tried- and failed- not to melt. Great, now all these cats knew how thirsty she was. 

“Mm- Adora,” Catra pulled away before a surge of electricity pulled her back in, her hands traveling from Adora’s neck to a familiar place on her hips. A soft mewl of protest could be heard from her lap, but this far from stopped Adora.

_ Jealous? _Adora smiled against Catra’s mouth, ignoring the rising itch in her throat and the twinge in her nose as she pulled her a few inches closer.

“Adora!” Never completely objecting, Catra protested against the feel of her lips once more. But Adora couldn’t stop, couldn’t resist the feel of her tongue brushing up against her own, couldn’t untangle her hands from wild curls. And she didn’t want to. 

Until Catra fell back with a growl, once again putting a solid distance between them. “Adora, stop!”

“What?” Adora broke away, eyes wide and breathing strained. Heart hitching, she tried to ignore to taste of blood in her mouth. _ Did I do that? What is wrong with me? _ Trying to regain her lost senses, she caught the chilly gaze of the tuxedo cat, who had borrowed further between Catra’s thighs. _ Enjoy the show? _She gulped and curled her fingers in a loose fist in case he tried to come for her. He looked like he definitely wanted to.

“As much as I love making out with you on dead people’s furniture in front of a bunch of cats, what about Molly?” Catra asked, tugging at Adora’s jacket and gesturing with her to the door.

“Catra, I’m not doing drugs just because-”

“Not drugs! Fuck-” Catra threw her hands up. She pointed to the door, the look of fury in her eyes sending Adora a few inches back. “The bitchy girl at the desk? She might come in here! And I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure I want her walking in with your tongue down my throat.”

“I-Catra,” Adora deflated, adrenaline draining from her body as shame crawled in to take its rightful place. Catra- Catra was right. Not only was she right about Molly coming in, but about what they were doing and why they were doing it. Adora had crossed the line by kissing her and hadn’t thought twice about doing so. 

How could she do that? Adora fought the urge to bring her fist down on her knee. How could she be _ so _ stupid, taking advantage of her girlfriend, someone she cared so much about it _ hurt, _so easily like that? The state of Catra’s headspace still wasn’t exactly clear. Of course being yelled at like some out of line middle schooler did clear some of it up, but nothing in the way Catra had acted since they walked in here was in any way permission to do what she had just done. 

_ Damnit. Why _ can’t _ I get this right? Am I just a horrible girlfriend? _

The punch-in-the-gut look on Catra’s face said that she was. That that’s all she was. Adora feared what she might say if Catra spoke; would she have to endure the wrath of her instability and betrayal in a series of blows, or in just a couple of scathing words, sharp like knives? _ Does it matter? _ Dropping her hand, Adora turned away to contend with her mistake. She’d failed. She failed Catra and she failed herself, there was no question about that. All that research, outfit planning, maneuvering the bus schedule so she could be here early, the cats, the kiss, none of it meant anything if Adora could not just _ be _there for her girlfriend when she needed her, no conditions asked. No part of them dating meant Catra couldn’t be as tightlipped and abrasive about her problems as she wanted to. Even though it hurt being pushed away. A lot.

Adora was supposed to be her _ partner _, not some soul sucking vampire of whatever joy she had left, literally, just because she was impatient and touch starved.

“I’m sorry Catra.” Adora’s voice shook when she finally spoke, her words dripping with regret and anxiety. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid and out of line.”

“Mm.” 

Adora dared to glance left to find Catra frozen, leaving her with a deep sense of confusion. Should she keep talking? Keep apologizing? It’s not like digging her grave further at this point would do much more damage. “I just thought… you’ve been in such a bad mood I guess I thought I could fix it.”

“This is not _ yours _ to fix!” snapped Catra without so much as a second's hesitation, turning to her with anger and heartbreak written on her face. “This is _ my _fucking problem, Adora! Why can’t you just respect that for once?”

“Because I’m you fucking girlfriend, that’s why!” The words escaped Adora’s tongue before she could think better of it, hanging heavy in the air and she almost slammed her hand over her mouth. But something kept her from backing down. A sudden vicious strike of anger hit her then like a snake bite, triggered by the way Catra’s eyes widened and she dared to act appalled by this show of courage. Adora _ never _swore like that. But Catra threw the first stone of this argument, this fight, and Adora was nothing if not ready for combat.

“What the hell does that have to do with it-”

“It has _ everything _ to do with it!” shouted Adora. This burst of noise scared tuxedo cat from Catra’s lap, giving them both permission to stand and face each other. Split eyes bore down ocean ones. Where there should have been fear, there was frustration in Adora, and she was rambling before she could think better of it. “I’m supposed to _ help _ you with things, Catra! That’s part of the job! And I’m more than happy to do it, but you have to trust me! If you don’t want to talk that’s fine! But would it have killed you just to say that? I almost went insane trying to plan this date around being asked to ruin my entire life’s work and you act like you don’t want to be here after I did all this work trying to find this place for you because you found the bookstore for me and I wanted so badly just to do something for you because I _ know _ things have been difficult recently and I just wanted you to remember that I _ care _ about you, _ a lot _, for some reason, even though you have the audacity to act like everything I do is in the end of the freaking world!”

Catra blinked. 

_ What did I just do? _

Panting, realization hit Adora so hard it knocked what was left of the air inside her lungs out of her. Oh God, she just yelled at Catra! Her brain flickered with the thought until it was all she could think. _ OH GOD, I JUST YELLED AT CATRA! _ Oh no, oh no, oh no. This was it, wasn’t it? She’d just led them to what she’d been dreading since she’d found Catra alive and in the Bright Moon Hospital: the end. The end that without a doubt she’d bring about them in some stupid move of anxiety, _ just _like she had just done. She just- she just thought she had more time with Catra before she burned them down again.

For someone who had always prided herself on her patience, it turned out to be another shiny and false attribute, failing here in her most important moments.

Adora hugged herself as she brought herself to look at Catra’s face, only to find it blank and drained of color. Oh, this was going to be one of _ those _ break ups. That excruciating and embarrassing kind that left her soul broken, bruised and battered. A quiet one word break up in front of an entire audience- of cats. Couldn’t the universe afford her _ some _ dignity? No, she didn’t deserve it. Not after that epic meltdown. Not after _ yelling _at Catra just for being a bad mood. Hoping to get this over with so she could go cry in the Auntie Anne’s foyer by herself until she gathered the strength to admit defeat and call Bow for a ride, Adora found herself speaking, her voice breaking. “Catra-”

But she didn’t get any farther than her name. Catra then fell back limp on the couch, her eyes glossing over in an all too familiar way, the shaking in her hands becoming almost violent. And just like that, Adora’s overwhelming urge to run as far away to bask in her pretzel-filled shame became the overwhelming urge to go to her in the blink of an eye. “Catra?” she asked, doing her best to keep panic out of her voice.

“You- you did this?” Her eyes circled the room and she hugged herself tight as she whispered, “All for me?” 

Adora froze. Catra looked on the verge of bursting, of breaking and shattering all in one caustic move. All Adora wanted to do was take her in her arms and _ never _let her go until this was fixed, but she couldn’t be the one to break her anymore. “Well, yeah-” she tried to force ease into her reply but was interrupted. A pained sob wracked Catra’s body in the next second, so warbled and full of anguish it was as if she was doing everything in her remaining power to keep the emotion rotting inside her. And then there was no thinking on Adora’s side. There was no need. Adora acted on an old, ancient reflex, throwing her arms around Catra and pulling her as close as she could as warm teardrops dripped down her neck. Despite herself, she almost laughed when Catra hugged her back and sobbed through gritted teeth:

_ “ _ My day fucking _ sucked.” _

_

God,  _ fuck  _ Adora.

Fuck Adora for making her come on this date, for walking into the Bright Moon Shopping Centre like it was a completely normal thing for her to do. Fuck Adora for being cute and patient on the steps. Fuck her paying for the stupid date, for stealing her autonomy and threatening to wipe out her control. And most of all, fuck her bringing her into a room full of  _ cats! _

All Catra wanted today, all she could possibly ask this bitch of a universe for, was to stay as angry as fucking possible. Anger was energy. Anger was survival. And after today, after being humiliated for the last time in class and being struck down when she was shadowing Julien, she needed that anger to survive the destruction she was doomed to bring on herself as punishment for messing up so badly today. How was she supposed to do that now- how was she supposed to that surrounded by her biggest weakness- how was she supposed to survive now that she was surrounded by all these cats?

Walking in, Catra almost let out a strangled scream. Of joy, of fury, of both, who gave a fuck what it was. Because she’d found herself in a sort of heaven on earth thanks to a woman who was both an angel and a devil, and she couldn’t even let herself enjoy it. That might explain why her first instinct was to full on disassociate, which was a big fucking slap in the face since it meant she had to rely on another person to help her stand.

_ She’s going to fucking break me,  _ Catra knew as she watched Adora croon over the sleeping kittens in the tower,  _ and I’m going to fucking let her.  _ Her losing battle began with that thought.

Watching the kittens huddle together as they slept, Catra surrendered to the softness invading her heart and managed to take the first real deep breath of the night leaning against Adora’s figure. The fresh air filled her lungs like a pleasant poison, the smell of cat treats and a litter box almost giving her a strange high. And in that high, the flooding of a multitude of memories: clinging to her mother’s legs as they wandered the local pet store, her light voice filling Catra’s ears as she asked the man at the front in Spanish if they could see the kittens today. Wandering the back alley while Adora complained about stickers in her legs until she found the Snowshoe she  _ knew  _ was hiding back here. A sandpaper tongue gently licking the blood running down her arm, interrupting her strangled sobs as she sat in Hordak’s driveway having relapsed  _ again.  _ Warmth under on her feet and then on her chest as she woke on a stranger’s couch to have a Burmese batting at her nose. Stocking the pet aisles of MegaMart, memorizing nutrition labels and price tags on little toy mice for what would be nothing more than a stupid, maladaptive daydream. 

And as those memories took center stage in her brain, she could feel all that  _ useless _ , cutthroat anger draining from her tired veins, leaving exhaustion in its place. The way her professor put her on the spot just to let another classmate demolish her for the sake of his fragile as fuck fratboy ego washed away like the water on her hands, replaced by the realization of where she was. Julien’s dismissal of her complaints, his comments of her hotheaded attitude and over emotional personality, gone like it never even happened when her eyes met the curious gaze of a tuxedo cat watching her from across the room. 

_ Beautiful boy,  _ her inner voice, sounding weirdly like her lost mother’s, rang in her head. Either this was heaven or hell, but now that she wasn’t seeing as much red she was suddenly fucking thrilled to be trapped here for an hour so she could see and meet each and every one of them. She wanted to learn their names, scratch their ears and bellies, kiss their foreheads and dangle the feathery toys in front of their reach. Too bad she was fucking exhausted since her solid rage had been the only thing keeping her standing and all she could do was stumble onto one of the couches, tired of leaning on Adora for support. ‘Cause that wouldn’t go to her head at all. And thank fucking God the couch only smelled like cat pee; Catra was scared it would reek of old people and their stench of death. 

Like they always would, cats followed her up and onto the couch, mounting their territory on her legs. The emotional and physical exhaustion of the day weighed down her shoulders fucking heavy like a burden as she wound her fingers through Tuxedo boy’s long coat. She hadn’t been this close to a furbaby, in what, over a year? Of course she felt like such shit. Catra was running on empty. 

Catra’s new crutch purred under her touch and a tingle pricked her eyes.  _ Fuck, no, don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry, Jauregui, you weak idiot! Can’t you for once not ruin something by being so damn emotional? _

But cats  _ always _ made her over emotional and therefore stupid and hella impulsive. Guess that’s what happened when you went your whole life living off scraps of conditional and fleeting love and then found something that would love you forever with no strings attached. That didn’t judge or berate relentlessly until you broke until you couldn’t break anymore; no, cats wanted to love and they wanted to be loved, just like her. Ever since she was little, cats had been the one thing that didn’t flat out reject her for being weird or defensive or hard to read. Because that’s what cats were: weird, confusing, and hard to read. Or so those heartless cat haters wasting Earth’s resources said, who claimed they were selfish and unloving because they were fucking cowards. Cats  _ were not  _ hard to read or unloving _ .  _ Spending more than twenty seconds it took to form an opinion about the animal was needed to understand their behavior and their moods. Cats were too easily dismissed as evil, as uncaring and cold, carrying with them the disease of feminine association. And Catra didn’t understand what that was like at  _ all. _ To be branded as an evil, heartless and crazy woman, no Catra knew that feeling, knew it so well she  _ bled _ it, and had worn the label like a crown since she was a teenager.

Who gave a shit if they branded her a crazy cat lady? Catra understood them and they understood her. The world isolated both of them in a constant state of rejection and purposeful misunderstanding. Wasn’t that exactly what the fuck had happened today? Rejected and exposed in the classroom by someone who was supposed to helping not hurting her expensive-ass education and then again by the man who was supposed to guide her in her dream job? This sweet boy in her lap, he’d never reject her. Never turn his back or leave her like she was yesterday’s news. No interest in the shit behind the curtain, he accepted and took her for what she was, something  _ people  _ lacked the brain cells to try and do when it came to her face value.

_ What about Adora?  _ Tuxedo boy looked up at Catra with his wide green eyes, his tail swishing back and forth on the couch like he was deep in thought. With minimal movement, he turned his head in her girlfriend’s direction.

Right. Adora. 

_ She looks pretty damn sexy trying fend that cat off her- Mary Mother of God that cat is way too fucking fat! Fuck it, I’m filing animal abuse charges at Molly,  _ Catra thought as she bit her lip watching Adora do her best with an animal that couldn’t beat her into the ground with its hooves. Catra rolled her eyes as far back in her head as possible. It was sweet as hell for Adora to bring her here, and watching how fucking hysterical it was to try and watch her work with the cats was the cherry on top.

Now that she was surrounded by a chorus of meows and had her hand in the soft fluff of Tuxedo boy’s neck, Catra’s drive to be irritated as fuck with Adora had begun to slowly fade. Of course it was fucking annoying to try and fend off her dumb questions and flash card talking points that she never seemed to run out of. God, what part of anything Catra was doing was a green light for a conversation? Wasn’t doing this enough? That was the whole purpose of these damn dates; to squeeze in time just to be  _ together. _ Why did they have to talk about the past when all it amounted to was a series of bad dreams that spanned a few decades? For all Catra cared, they didn’t have to talk at all! Besides, Adora always ended up crying anyways when they talked about that shit. And Catra was  _ not  _ fucking dealing with crying tonight. 

But Adora- Adora just had to keep prying.  _ What, I stop giving her attention for one minute and she bugs me like we haven’t seen each other in months?  _ She  _ brought me into a room full of cats.  _ She  _ did that! What did she think was going to fucking happen?  _ Catra was just starting to come around to the idea that spending the evening together might be going better than she had first thought since Adora brought her to this little heaven/hell, was just starting to forget about her wild anger and uncontrollable need to be in goddamn control. A sweet boy in her lap and little troop of them at her feet were taking care of the emptiness threatening to take over if she let go of the anger completely. Catra could breathe without screaming. As long as they were surrounding her. 

But then Adora ruined it by saying letting the words “I promise” get past her lips. Adora  _ always  _ had to go and ruin it. 

Her ocean eyes dug into Catra’s soul without one word of consent, triggering her emotions like a fucking wildfire, setting ablaze the coals of anger that were about to go out. Catra swallowed, slowly losing her stream of conscience to a time that wasn’t there, to a fight that never left her. The fight tearing her in fucking half.

_ “You promise?” _

_ “I promise.”  _

Catra winced, her nails digging into the cat in her lap. She couldn’t handle the way their young voices echoed in her head. She couldn’t handle the way they never failed to erase reality around her bit by bit. Trying to breathe, Catra’s thoughts caught trapped in the fire, bombarded by the sucky events of earlier that branded her like permanant ink. 

_ “Did you think that through, Miss Jauregui?” _

_ “This is basic stuff, are you sure you belong here?” _

“Rreow.” Tuxedo Boy’s protest of worry couldn’t be processed over the mirage-like voices of her teacher and the fucking idiot classmate of hers. Oh God, she was losing control. The cats, the cats were still here- but the soft touch of fur against her rough fingers was not helping anymore. It was no longer grounding her the way it had before; she was lost in a sea of voices and memories, all fighting for her attention, all chipping away at what remained of her functioning. Her anger was sucking her in, and she was going to go down with it. Biting down her tongue, Catra hoped the taste of blood would shock her back to what was real. Real like the beauty of Adora’s eyes and the shape of her lips, shapes she’d drawn too many times to count.

_ "You’re a good artist, Catra. But you’re too emotional.” _

Julien’s voice sounded off as she barreled toward a break down. Damn it! Why couldn’t she breathe? Somewhere she was aware of the familiar feel of copper on her taste buds. Somewhere she was aware of the warmth of Adora’s hands on her jaw, pulling her closer and breaking the space between them.

_ Adora.  _ The one damn thought in the sea of them that anchored her.  _ Adora.  _ Adora was here, Adora was real, Adora’s lips were on hers. Adora’s lips tasted like cherry and mint gum, Adora’s lips ignited a primal sense in Catra of want and need. So she threw herself into the kiss, abandoning cat fur for leather and dissociation for senseless, meaningless intimacy. Because Adora was here. Adora was real. And Catra didn’t want anything of those other things, the anger, the sadness, the self destruction, to be. She gave silent permission for Adora to take her until there was nothing left of her but that happiness promised in those ocean eyes. 

Then Adora’s tongue brushed her own. 

Catra’s eyes flew open in shock.  _ No!  _ Whatever logic in her broken brain screamed, the force of regret hitting her like a punch in the fucking gut.  _ Adora is  _ not  _ one of those girls!  _ Lips wavering against her girlfriend’s eagerness, Catra bit back a scream in conflict. No, she couldn’t do this no matter how fucking badly she wanted to. She couldn’t do this to Adora, couldn’t treat her like all those nameless, brainless woman whose only offering to Catra’s stability was in their bodies and in their beds. And that  _ wasn’t  _ Adora; Adora loved her art, gave her a job, took the time to learn her hopes, her fears, her dreams. Adora pushed her to be a better person. Adora ran through a fucking hospital to find her just because she was so damn terrified of the prospect of living without her. 

Adora was not a nameless, faceless night of empty sex. Adora’s worth amounted to way fucking more that just a distraction from her pain. But Catra, blinded by the false stability of her anger and terrified of losing it, fell right back into the same pattern she always did when she was like this. Because she was weak. Because she wasn’t becoming a better person, no matter how hard she tried. 

_ So I can’t stop fucking stop this? I know it’s wrong! How the hell do I make this stop?  _

She felt the soft tickle of a tail on the exposed skin of her back, heard another “Rreow” ring in her ears. Tuxedo Cat was there, he hadn’t left. Because cats never did.

_ And Adora isn’t going to either. _

Catra could burn this down and they’d build it back up. They’d done it before, right? Too fucking bad all she knew how to do was burn it down. Before she knew what she was saying- pfft, she couldn’t stop and think ‘cause then she’d end up right back in Adora’s arms- she was pushing her girlfriend off her and yelling the first damn excuse that came to her brain. Something about Molly. 

And Adora took it like a slap to the face. She sat there in her rejection as Catra sat in her regret, too far gone in her ugly, selfish emotions to think- just  _ think  _ for once, god damn it!- about Adora’s dumb unnecessary apology and only able to react to her even dumber need to fix Catra like she was some fun DIY project. Fuck, Catra got that she was a timebomb, okay! She got it? But if Adora was so hellbent on fixing her why did she always go and have to trip the red wire in her? 

“This is not  _ yours  _ to fix!” she found herself hissing, acting on the instinct and reflex of her indignation so she wouldn’t crumble in her weak need of the love she needed so badly in that moment, “This is  _ my  _ fucking problem, Adora! Why can’t you just respect that for once?”

“Because I’m you fucking girlfriend, that’s why!”

“What the hell does that have to do with it-”

“It has  _ everything  _ to do with it.”

_ What?  _

Catra’s eyes widened. Adora’s own words of fury shattered the floor underneath her, and even though Adora kept yelling, flailing her hands and whipping her pony tail, Catra didn’t hear much past how she was happy to help her with her bad day because she cared about her. 

All this time- all this  _ fucking  _ time- Catra thought caring about Adora would unravel her. She just assumed, like she  _ always  _ did, that caring for someone who cared for her would be a vulnerability. That if someone saw the way she was falling for this dumb horse girl whose biggest dream was to publish a novel then they would see Catra as what she really was, weak, and attack her in a deserving move because she was the idiot stupid enough to show her vulnerable soul. How fucking selfish was that? Adora was screaming at her about she almost went crazy trying to find this place because she knew how much she loved cats and Catra was the bitch who only cared about looking and acting strong enough to protect  _ herself.  _ But it wasn’t just her anymore. 

This cruel, unrelenting idea that caring was weakness- that shit? That  _ shit _ was certain piece of shit foster father talking in her voice. Catra realized that the more Adora whipped herself into a frenzy. Hordak abused and beat her with the idea she’d become like him, and it was all Catra feared to this day. She let that fear paralyze her and keep her from changing. The sense that deep down they were the same unloving, unevolving soul filled her with so much dread she could’ve drowned in it, but the way Adora was screaming at her had her realizing just how different they actually were. Here Adora was, ranting about how much she cared about Catra. So she couldn’t be Hordak. 

No one loved Hordak. No one cared about him. But Adora cared about Catra, enough to do something like find what she loved and bring her to it despite her pissy attitude, so she must somewhere deep down, be worth caring for. But if she kept acting this way, if she didn’t at least  _ try _ even if she didn’t make much progress, then she wouldn’t be worth anything. Wouldn’t be worth caring for. 

Tears pricked Catra’s eyes as Adora abandoned them to an empty silence. Her throat tightening and her face going numb, Catra knew what was coming. Tuxedo Boy’s bright green eyes were staring at her as he moved to lie down on the floor, pressing her to answer Adora.

Hordak had kept a grip of iron around Catra’s heart for so many years, until Adora came along and put her own hand there, a symbol that Catra was no longer alone to deal with this pain. And now there was a paw there too.

“Catra?” Adora was saying. Catra wanted to respond, wanted to say she was sorry for the shitty way she acted, but there was only what was breaking inside her. Warm tears fell down her cheeks as a gasp of pain she couldn’t hold back escaped her. Oh God,  _ she  _ was crying now. Like full on sobbing, snot dripping out of her nose, rocking back and forth crying. Like she was vomiting up every emotion that had assaulted her all day in a moment of extreme weakness.  _ Fuck! _

Adora wrapped her arms around her in an instant and Catra melted into the shape of her body at her touch. There was a large part of her screaming at her for being so stupidly vulnerable, but she ignored it for the warmth and comfort Adora so freely gave. Couldn’t she just have this? ‘Cause Adora was just going to give it, what was the point of letting her love go to waste? 

“My day  _ fucking _ sucked,” wheezed Catra, hating the way her words came back to her as so cowardly. But Adora deserved a legit explanation as to why she was being used as a tissue and so she said it anyway. 

“Yeah- yeah, I got that,” Adora muttered in validation, rubbing her back without hesitation. The repetitive motion was nice, and Catra found herself relaxing further into her touch. Quietly, she let the tears fall from her eyes, no longer fighting to hold them back and inside where they melted her interior like acid. Quietly, the tension centered in her scar started to ease and the feelings that had been poisoning her point of view for a whole afternoon started to dissipate the longer she cried like a baby in Adora’s arms.  _ God, I feel like a fucking idiot, _ but Catra kept sobbing, curling in against her shoulder. She could feel a brush of fur once more against the exposed skin of her back again, and found herself crying harder. Tuxedo Boy had come to her side and was pawing allworried at her back.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” asked Adora as the tears leveled off. A tiredness in her throat and lungs, Catra was down to a sniffling after about five minutes of straight up wailing. Before Catra could answer, Adora stopped rubbing her back and got up, leaving her leaning with shaking arms on the gross couch for support. Tuxedo Boy came around to her lap now that was nothing blocking his way, purring as he started kneading her jeans. Catra exhaled.

“Here you go.” Adora smiled as she came back, handing her a wad of paper towels from the handwashing station. She took her place again, curling her legs underneath herself, reaching out to scratch the cat’s chin. Trying not to obsess over the worry on her face, Catra wiped her eyes using the harsh material and swallowed the salty mucus in her mouth. “You don’t have to- I mean, talk about it that is,” she clarified in almost a panic. Catra almost smiled. “But you can, if you want to.”

Did she? Earlier the answer was  _ fuck  _ no. Now? Now she just felt lost as hell. Crying was one thing, opening up about this so freely would be another. Scorpia was always saying shit about how talking about her problems made her feel better- which is how Catra ended up on the other side of her venting so god damn much- and Entrapta just made do talking into that dumb recorder of hers. As much as she judged them for their embarrassing ways of coping, they sure as hell were doing better than she was. They weren’t having major breakdowns in random stores at the mall. They weren’t ruining their girlfriend’s jacket and t-shirt with snot. Ugh, maybe she should talk about it. 

So, her throat raw, Catra tried for the first time in a long time to be honest about what happened. “Some shit went down in class and at the shop, that’s all.” 

Key word:  _ tried.  _

Adora raised an eyebrow. “Okay. That’s vague, Catra.”

Throwing her a vicious look, Catra practically growled. C’mon, she was trying here!

“It’s just if I knew the details I might be able to help you.” Adora threw her hands up while still managing to stand her ground. She inched a little closer, a gentle and sympathetic look on her face.

“Ugh, I guess that’s true,” she grumbled. God, she was so tired. “You know that art history class I have to take?”

“Yeah.” Adora nodded. Weird, she was still scratching the cat. And the cat was enjoying it, meowing and pawing at her when Adora stopped to listen to Catra.

_ You can do this. You can trust Adora.  _ “My professor put me on the spot today,” Catra started, summoning what little bravery she was capable of. She could do this. “‘Cause I’m not participating enough or something and it’s hurting my grade. I can’t believe I even have to talk or participate, that's  _ so  _ not what I’m paying for! Like, I’m not  _ you _ in the classroom, but it’s not like I’m failing the class!”

“I thought you were making a B.” Adora brought her knee up to her chin. 

“I am!” Catra threw her hands up. “But for  _ some  _ reason, I have to be talking in class like a fucking nerd. But Professor Calley- she didn’t even warn me. She asked me some stupid question about the origins of naturalism as it relates to critical approach of some dude Hippolyte Taine, and I’ve been so fucking behind with the stuff Julien asked me to sketch out and all those assignments for Digital Art plus I gotta drive so I didn’t have time to read the chapter and I froze!”

“Oh no,” her girlfriend said with sympathy as she deflated into the couch. “Are you using those study tips I gave you- you know what nevermind, that’s not what’s important here.” Catra rolled her eyes, no malice in the gesture this time around. Of course Adora would bring up the study tips while she was trying to vent; she always did when Catra talked about school. “What happened after that?”

Catra ran her nails down Tuxedo boy’s back. “Some asshole in the class had to make a comment. He interrupted me like as I was trying to answer and derailed my whole fucking answer.”

“Ugh, academic fuckboys. That is definitely something I do not miss about college.” Her nose twitching, Adora rolled her own eyes.

“Yeah, well this academic fuckboy straight up asked me if I thought I belonged there.” 

“ _ What?!” _

“He asked me that in front of the entire  _ fucking  _ class. It’s a community college, for God’s sake!”

This had Adora untangling her limbs and climbing off the couch, a look of utter rage overtaking her soft expression. “Oh I’m gonna go kick his ass right  _ now- _ ” she started, ready to go on some princess rampage until Catra grabbed her wrist and dug her shaking fingernails into her skin. Their eyes met, a wordless conversation exchanged between the two of them.

_ You said you’d stay and listen to me vent.  _

_ Yeah, I did say that. _

Falling back to the couch, Adora once again folded her limbs up and leaned her elbow on the back cushion. “Uh- you were saying?” Catra just shook her head. 

“I probably would’ve been able to deal with him but I got to work and-” This was the hardest part, and Catra bit down on her lip. “Julien and I got in a fight, but  _ I  _ started it? I guess, I dunno. He just wasn’t hearing me!”

“Hearing you about what?”

“About the other artists! They’re  _ loud  _ and fucking obnoxious and they leave their workstations a mess. They treat the studio like it’s a goddamn garbage can and I’m their little secretary in charge of cleaning it up or some shit! I told Julien to grow a pair and tell them to knock it off or I would do it, but he got all pissy and told me it wasn’t my place. He had me cleaning equipment the rest of shift. It was a complete and total waste of time.” She sighed, feeling a tinge of that old anger in her throat. In a way, this whole venting thing wound her up like a freaking clock, but it was also freeing like her sobfest. Like a word vomit clearing the mess in her brain. 

“I’m sorry, Catra. I know more than anybody how frustrating it is to be sidelined because you’re young and a woman and new enough that no one takes you seriously so you’re just their assistant instead of actually there to do a job like everyone else,” Adora told her, grabbing her hand.

Squeezing it in return, Catra continued. “It’s not just that. When we were fighting, I dunno, Julien said something that just pissed me off so bad that I basically just sabotaged myself the rest of the night.”

“What did he say? Can I ask that?”

“He said-” Catra breathed through her nostrils, “-he said I was too hotheaded and emotional.”

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” Adora leaned her head back, “and he’s  _ Bow’s _ brother? Are we sure about that?”

“It just reminded me so much of the shit Hordak used to say I guess I got triggered, and the worst part is, I feel like such a stupid vulnerable idiot saying that outloud! I dunno, like I guess I haven’t felt like myself all night. Which  _ fucking  _ sucks because you brought me to a room full of cats.” There, she said it. She said it  _ all,  _ everything that happened to her, out loud. To another person. 

_ That… wasn’t terrible? I feel… better? Of course it wasn’t terrible Hordak was never right about anything why the fuck would he start being right now? _

“How are you feeling right now?” asked Adora. She was inching closer, closing the rest of the distance between them. Tuxedo Boy meowed in her direction and his tail swished back and forth in welcome. 

“I-” Catra took another deep breath. Looking around the room, she tried to take stock of herself and figure out the answer to Adora’s question. The intense feelings of instability had faded, but she didn’t feel empty like she normally would’ve. Gone was the desire to wreak havoc and hurt herself. And Adora hadn’t left her at her lowest moment like Catra was so scared she would. Neither had the cat, and now they were warming up to each other, surprisingly. Because her girlfriend had a hell of an open mind for a non-cat lover. Her girlfriend did that for  _ her _ . Her girlfriend was everything. “Better. I’m exhausted as fuck, but I no longer wanna strangle something so… thanks, Adora.” 

Moving forward, Adora smiled that beautiful fucking smile as their foreheads met. “You’re welcome, Catra. You know you can always talk to me, I’ll probably take your side anyway.”

_ God, I don’t fucking deserve her.  _ Catra sighed, their fingers intertwining.

“You are so dumb,” laughed Catra, feeling an emotion that wasn’t pure rage or hurt or shock for the first time since breakfast. But as she moved in to show Adora that, she was stopped by a paw scratching her chin. Tuxedo boy had risen up on his hind legs, she realized cackling, to bat her in the jaw and stop her from kissing her girlfriend because  _ he  _ wanted attention. Adora guffawed and leaned back. “You’re dumb too,” Catra told the cat, running her nails from the top of his head to behind his ear.

“They’re so drawn to you.” Adora giggled. “It’s really like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“Are you saying that I’m like nothing you’ve ever seen?” Catra, still scratching Tuxedo Boy, teased.

Rolling her ocean eyes, Adora gave her the benefit of a shrug. “Well  _ that  _ goes without saying. What I  _ meant  _ was the cats. They just love you- and I’m not saying  _ that’s _ weird or anything but I’ve just never seen, you know, animals act like this. Like ever since we were little you’ve just attracted cats to you.”

“We get each other.” And that was the real, full answer. The way Adora lifted an eyebrow and wrinkled her nose in confusion may have said she didn’t get it, but it really was the only way Catra knew how to explain it. She understood them and they understood her. It wasn’t fucking rocket science. And now that she had someone else who understood her along with cats, she had a strange reassurance that she was worth understanding. Adora being a smartass she was would figure it out in time. Understanding and accepting her for the person she was was something Adora and cats had in common. Maybe it wasn’t such a mystery that she was getting along with Tuxedo Boy like they were old pals or something. “Oh please, babe. If I took you to a ranch or like a gross farm, I wouldn’t find you befriending the horses in the blink of a fucking eye?”

Adora lit up at the mention of horses and Catra tried not to blink, tried to commit the image of her beautiful girlfriend like this so she could put it on paper later. “Okay, fine. You’re right.”

_ You bet your amazing ass I am.  _ Catra winked at her.

“And…” should Catra say this? Was there such a thing as too much vulnerability? She thought they crossed that line a meltdown ago. Adora didn’t shy away or give her crap for all her blatant shows of weakness, so… Fuck it, she was just going to say it. “And maybe it’s genetic. My mom- Mami- they always followed her around. They’d just show up to the diner she worked at and in this shitty basement apartment she rented for us. That was… I dunno they’ve been around since I was little so I’ve always been pretty damn used to them. Most of my memories of Mami were her with a cat or multiple cats.”

God it was weird to say that outloud, to cross that boundary. Their whole lives, from the second she showed up on Weaver’s door step, Catra had kept the notion of her birth mother in a locked box far away in the back of her brain as a sick way of compartmentalizing, only smashed open by accident when Adora discovered her Selena Cat tattoo as a way of trying to beat her in a competition of personal tragedy. As hard as she tried not to think about her mom, those strained yet perfect days of innocence by her side melted into her conscience now matter how hard she tried to keep them back. Guess that’s what happened when a locked box of memories was smashed by a violent, impulsive hammer. It’s not like she had a million memories of being under four and in Selena’s care, but the few she did have lived closer to her heart than she thought they did, trying to crawl into and heal the hole left there by her mother’s suicide. 

_ Mami pretended she liked life when she was with me, but she didn’t have to pretend when the cats were with her. Huh. Migraines. Fucked up emotions. Cats. Wow, great. I got a lot in common with the woman who abandoned me when I was four fucking years old. Abandoned me and left me with this useless -and kinda amazing- love of cats. _

“And that’s why your tattoo for her is a cat?” Adora asked, squeezing her hand.

Catra nodded. God, she felt so  _ small  _ right now, trying to talk about her mom. So small and vulnerable, but… safe? “Mami loved them, fuck, probably even more than me. She always wanted one but we could barely make rent, so. But yeah, they were her whole world. You ever wonder how I got my dumb name? Why it’s not like Elena or Amelia or Paula or something super obviously and traditionally latina?”

“I like your name,” smiled Adora.

“Of course  _ you  _ do. It’s like young adult writer crack to you.” Catra rolled her eyes.

“Or maybe young adult writer catnip?” her girlfriend joked and Catra actually scoffed. How dare she try and be funny when Catra was trying to be honest about a still open and bleeding wound. How dare it be  _ exactly  _ what Catra needed to feel heard and validated and not see this conversation as a therapy session she was strong armed into. 

“Adora!” Catra whacked her on the shoulder as she threw her head back laughing, earning a meow of confusion from Tuxedo cat. 

“Sorry, sorry I couldn’t resist!” The redness drained from her face and she came back to Catra with a weird, secretive smile on her face. God she wasn’t going to draw this mom conversation out or talk about Mara was she? Or worse- her murdered in cold blood birth mother that she never knew? Now that Catra had cried herself dry, she wasn’t sure she could handle Adora having the kind of meltdown she had.  _ Ever.  _ “You know… this place is kinda like a cat sanctuary. They take in strays and cats from abusive and neglectful places. You can actually adopt from here.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah.” Adora nodded, biting back a smile. 

Catra’s eyes fell back to Tuxedo Cat and he cocked his little head. No,  _ no,  _ Catra was not going to indulge the idea of having him all to herself, having him snuggle with her in the morning and crowd her while she tried to draw, feeding him dinner and playing with him and- No! No, this needed to stop. She had too many fucking expenses already, between dumb college and rent and not actually getting paid yet at Sanctuary. But maybe… maybe when this publication deal went through and she graduated and Julien took her on full time like he promised her he would… maybe. 

Maybe if things with Adora stayed as strong and steady as they were now… Maybe if they combined their lives and their assets. Maybe. 

_ Or maybe I need to stop fucking thinking like this before I break another bone. _

“What’s this little guy’s name anyway?” Adora was asking. Shifting her body weight against Catra’s, Adora turned the silver tag on Tuxedo Boy’s color as he placed a gentle paw on her hand. “Lucky. Huh, I’ve been staring at my manuscript for so long, I almost thought it said Loo-Kee for a second.”

_ The fuck?  _ “Uh, what are you talking about?”

“Loo-kee, you know?” tried Adora but it landed flat. Catra stared at her with wide and confused eyes, trying to rack her brain for whatever the hell she referring to. “That little thing Madame Razz always has following her around and hiding? She’s alone in the woods but she has Loo-Kee. He was a character I had to scratch but I left that line.”

“Oh! Fuck, you’re right, you’re right, I totally forgot,” Catra rambled before sighing. “Loo-kee, huh. I kinda like that better.”

“Yeah, it suits him.” Adora let go of his nametag and Loo-kee, satisfied with the interaction, hopped back to curl up in Catra’s lap.

_ Loo-kee.  _ Catra chewed on her tongue as she ran a hand down the fur on his back.  _ I wonder if I’m nice enough to Molly she’ll make sure no one else adopts him.  _

“Hey Adora?”

Humming, her girlfriend looked up. “Yeah?” 

“I- I’m sorry that I acted like shit tonight.” The words of a long overdue apology were foreign on her tongue, but the bravery behind them was weirdly assured. She needed to say this. She needed to say this so they could survive, survive long enough to have a relationship where they could be Loo-kee’s moms. She needed to say this, because she cared and it was time she stop caring about how much she freaking cared. 

“Catra, you had a bad day, it happens to everyone. You don’t need apologize-”

“No, babe,” Catra cut her off, shifting so she could look her in her ocean eyes, “I  _ do _ need to apologize, ‘cause I was a bitch and I rained all over your idea for tonight, and- and it wasn’t fair to you okay?” Stopping herself to take a deep breath, Catra tried to remind herself to tone down the freaking harshness. This was supposed to be an apology. Why again was she coming on so fucking strong? “My behavior tonight was just… it was shitty. But like, it was never you I was mad at. I’m  _ trying,  _ I really fucking am, but I can’t promise it won’t happen again and- and I’m sorry.”

“Catra- I- thank you. But it wasn’t just you, I need to take some responsibility for being pushy and- and for kissing you.” Adora admitted before looking down at her feet and familiar guilt coursed through Catra’s veins. 

_ She just has to go and try and one up my apology.  _ Catra almost burst out laughing at that thought it was so fucking dysfunctional. No, Adora was just being Adora. This is what good girlfriends do, right?

“Hey,” Catra muttered, nudging her, “all things aside it was a pretty good kiss.” 

Laughing just a little, Adora shrugged. “Yeah, it was.”

“Thanks for doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“This,” Catra scoffed in disbelief, gesturing to the fucking heaven around them, “You brought me here, you planned this! I can’t believe someone would do something so fucking thoughtful for what, pfft, me?”  _ And going through with it after I was such a bitch about everything.  _

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I  _ barely _ pulled it off. But I’m glad you like it.” A pretty pink blush spread across her validated look of satisfaction and Catra almost kissed her right there. Her brain stopped her, catching on the words “barely,” and thoughts of Adora talking about the manuscript almost stopped her, she wanted to know what happened there and ask for the first time all night how  _ her  _ day went down, but then Adora giggled a little and Catra just found herself in the next second with her lips on hers.

This time around, there was no maddening rush of red hot emotions, no animalistic desire propelling her straight back into bad habits. Adora’s lips, this time without an agenda, were gentle on her own as she happily returned the kiss, feeling like home. Her fingers found Catra’s, intertwining as her other hand danced against the back of Catra’s head, finding its way to her curls. 

_This is nice, _Catra thought to herself as sighed into her, _this is really fucking nice. _Catra was more than fucking happy to stay like this forever even with the way Adora’s nose had begun to wiggle and squirm, but then, Adora just _had _to go and ruin it.

“Achoo!”

“RreoOW!”

“What the  _ fu- _ did you just sneeze into my mouth?” It all happened in an instant. One second, they were making out, the next Catra was  _ covered  _ and could only sit there in absolute shock.

“Sorry!” Adora clasped her hands over her mouth in shame as Catra wiped moisture from her face and lips and neck. This- this was revenge for getting snot all over her t-shirt. As Catra wiped her jacket with her left over paper towels, trying to wrap her head around what just happened, Adora watched her and itched at her eyes. “Okay, I kinda have a secret. I think I might be a  _ little  _ bit allergic,” she said with even more defeated shame than her sorry for sneezing on her.

“You  _ think?” _ Well dent in her move-in-and-get-a-cat-together plan aside, Catra burst out cackling. Oh the god damn, amazing irony of this! The first dog (and horse) person she could get to sit down and see all the love and kindness in a cat and she’s fucking allergic! “Like, how allergic? Like I need to take you to the  _ hospital _ allergic? Or-”

“Like I might need an Allegra next time we come here. Seriously, I’m fine! Just a little itchy.” Adora shooed her away as Catra’s heart dropped into her stomach.

“Next time?” God, _why _did Catra have to sound like an eager little kid? It really took the edge off her hard earned reputation. 

“Of course, next time. Or any time you want really.” She shrugged, rubbing her nose, “Now that you know about this place, you can even come without me.” 

_ Oh Bright Moon Shopping Mall, you and I are about to become really good friends.  _ Catra sighed back into the cushions of the couch. Guess she could say goodbye to those bad days now; with a place full of cats to come to, there really wasn’t a point to trying to get drunk enough all alone in her apartment to keep her arms from bleeding red and keep her distracted from her misery after a shit day like this. These cats, they weren’t just distractions, they were solutions, reminders that she was loved and understood, reminders that she was capable of working through her negative emotions even though it was a bitch to do so. Until she could afford, like an  _ actual  _ therapist, these furbabies would do just nicely.

“Awww,” Adora was cooing, “he likes me. That’s a first.” Catra looked up. Loo-kee was nuzzling up against Adora’s stomach, his deep purring reaching Catra’s ears from where she sat. Still looking a little confused and out of place, Adora ran her hand on down his back.

“Told you they would if you just calmed down.” Smiling, Catra reached over the scratch the sweet cat behind his ears. Yeah, she may not have said those actual words, but she hadn’t forgotten saying things  _ like  _ that when they were young explorers on the hunt for stray tabbys and Adora walked away with claw marks up and down her scrawny arms. Catra had waited a long time for this. Not just for Adora to make up with the entire species, but for someone to  _ finally  _ listen to her when she said cats weren’t devil spawn assholes who couldn’t hold a candle to a spazzy, drooly dog. 

Just then as they were petting Loo-kee, Adora conflicted between sniffling and scratching while Catra laughed at her, the door to the outside room opened and Molly peaked her head inside. “Uh, sorry to interrupt Ms. Reign,”  _ Miss Reign, that’s fucking official.  _ Catra snickered in Adora’s direction, earning an eye roll from her girlfriend, “but your hour is up. If you’re done, you can just come to the front, but if you’re still playing I can extend your time by another hour if you would like.” 

Catra glanced at Adora and she raised an eyebrow. God, please let her not look like a total hopeful idiot. This was something  _ Adora  _ was paying for, so she got to make the call. And it’s not like Catra would be back the next time she had a break in her schedule. “Um, I’m okay with that if you are?”

_ God, marry me. _

“Can your mall pretzel wait?” teased Catra, trying to push her last thought from her head. Even after everything that happened, they were  _ so _ not going there today. 

“Yeah,” Adora gave a small, sauve shrug, “but you gotta buy me two or three, ‘cause I’m gonna be starving by then.”

“Done! Molly, extend it.”

“Please,” Adora added.

Nodding, Molly crept back through the door. Trying not to vibrate with literal excitement like a complete dork, Catra turned back to her girlfriend. As soon as their eyes met, they both burst into laughter that lasted for a solid minute. Fuck, Catra was lucky. Because of the seven billion people in the world, Catra was here with  _ Adora.  _ Yeah, she may be so exhausted both physically and emotionally that she might actually be eating one of those disgusting pretzels (ugh, maybe she could talk Adora into going to the cinnamon rolls place after Auntie Anne’s or whatever it was called) after this was over, but she was in one damn piece. And that was new. A good fucking new if you asked her.

Catra was here with Adora after everything. This shit excuse of day was one reminder after another that she didn’t belong in Bright Moon; she didn’t have money, prestige, or a name. Her skills in this city of gold and silver asshats were at best passable and worst replaceable, her worth stagnating in the driver’s seat of an Uber. There was nothing here in all of Bright Moon and its falsely advertised empty promises for a person like her. Nothing here in bountiful pile of perfection that belonged to someone like her, was for someone like her. There was nothing in Bright Moon she wanted.

Except Adora.

Adora was here. Adora subjected herself to two hours of cats even though she was freaking allergic. Adora handled her tantrum- after mishandling it, but she was still trying, so- held her as her emotions leaked out of her, and dried her tears. Adora gave up her stupid pretzel for a few hours. Adora brought her  _ here.  _

There was something here in Bright Moon for Catra, a blonde author dubbed Princess who couldn’t walk in heels for shit, but accepted her and took her for all she was, for her good days and her bad. Everything Catra needed, everything she  _ wanted _ , was here in Bright Moon because of Adora.

“Okay, c’mon.” Catra got up, walking up to the podium of cat toys and grabbing a rod with a feather taped to the end. 

“What? What are you doing?” asked Adora as she turned back to her. In her lap, Loo-kee perked up and his eyes dilated at the sight of the feathered toy.  _ Oh there you go boy.  _ All it took was a couple of vigorous waves of the feather in his face and Loo-kee was jumping up on his hind legs, trying to capture the alluding pink wisp with his paws.

“ _ I _ am going to teach you some more tricks now that you’re officially a cat person, Adora,” Catra told her, enjoying the way her trademark bratty attitude hit all the right notes, and extended her casted hand. Yeah, this was new, showing Adora how to win over a cat instead of just laughing in her face, but fuck, was it long overdue. Rolling her eyes, Adora took her hand and stood. “And  _ you  _ are going to tell me about your day, because I know it was crap and I know you’re holding out on me, so-”

“What, no that wasn’t part of the deal-” Adora started to protest but Catra shut her up with one look. “Ugh, fine. You win.”

Sitting down on the floor in the center of the room, Adora followed Catra’s movements as the cats began to trot up to them, ranting without any hesitation about impossible standards of the publishing industry and their audacity to censor what was actually really important material. Catra interrupted just as often as the cats did with threats of knives and black eyes that made Adora laugh, if not give her a look of disapproval. The hour blended together, Catra watching it all unfold as the last of the weight of her sucky day lifted from her shoulders. She leaned on her ankles, letting the souls of her boots dig into her legs, rubbing older an Snowshoe who’d forgone the toy games to sit by her and get love. 

Adora was right; there was happiness here.

“Ah!” Adora shouted with glee as the four cats she’d rounded up all by herself started pawing her, all vying for the toy mouse she had clasped in her hands. Loo-kee sat by her away from the others, almost as if he knew he would get the toy because  _ he  _ was the favorite. His eyes met Catra’s for a split second.

_ Yeah,  _ Catra thought,  _ here. _


	2. watch you sleep (I don't ever wanna leave)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So this is selflessness."
> 
> When Adora falls asleep facetiming Catra, Catra uses the opportunity to capture the quiet way she always saw her growing up. 
> 
> or
> 
> Adora snores. Catra remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovelies!!!!
> 
> may I just say how completely blown away I was by the response to begin again? your love and support has sent me into SHOCK! shock, dare the dramatic in me say! each of your comments inspired me to get down and back to it, and thus we now have this lovely piece.
> 
> this idea I've had for a looooooooooong time. Since like, before I was writing the early stuff for upper west side. I found this [tweet](https://princessofgayskull.tumblr.com/post/188548495080) and thought of uws!catradora immediately so this seemed like the most perfect time to do it. 
> 
> as always, I have mixed feelings for how it turned out. There's not really plot; it's more slice of life and it's got Entrapta!
> 
> big BIG trigger warning here: this fic talks about Shadow Weaver abusing Catra and overall just being a really, really bad person (hehe can you tell i dESPISE her) and catra just having a visceral reaction to those memories. there's some stuff about her scar that's graphic. it's nothing more charged than what happened in canon, but you know me and my spare-no-detail writing style. lso some adult themes are present here. Please be careful and take care of yourself.
> 
> also, I have no idea what the publication process is like. I just made stuff up for conflict purposes.
> 
> without further ado...

“Caaaaaatra, I saved you some of my dinner. It’s mac’n’cheese! Scorpia showed me her super secret special recipe. Of course I experimented it with it quite a bit, but there’s nothing that can’t be improved with a little creative science!”

_ Thunk!  _

“Okay, ‘Trapta, thanks- what,  _ why _ \- I  _ told  _ you to stop putting any food you gave me into these crappy little tea cups!” stuttered Catra, looking down at the stolen McDonald’s tray that had landed on the other side of her bed. Keeping on brand as the lovable weirdo of their rag tag trio, Entrapta had gifted her with not one, or two, or five Disney Princess plastic tea cups but a whopping total of 11 fucking things of macaroni in material that wasn’t actually meant to be eaten out of. And no fork. Catra exhaled through her nose, her grip tightening around her pencil; Jesus Christ, when was the useless crap of Megamart going to stop invading her territory and cluttering what small precious space they paid way too goddamn much for? This Disney Princess Tea Set was without a doubt a previous member of the clearance aisle’s pride and joy, and good God was Entrapta putting that 6 dollars to decent use. How many meals had Catra been served in this shit? How many times had she asked her roommate to stop leaving Ariel and Jasmine’s faces dripping with sloppy joe leftovers in their sink? How many times had Catra abandoned what little pride she had left and eaten straight out of the teapot because she was fucking starving?

“Ooh I know, but they’re just so  _ tiny,  _ I can’t resist!” Entrapta clapped her hands, hovering over where Catra sat cross-legged by her bed bent over her sketchbook and chaotic mess of printed out lecture powerpoints. Acting on an old, ancient instinct of hers, Catra moved to hide the charcoal grit and penciled drawings from her prying and curious eyes. Yeah, it was just Entrapta, the  _ least _ judgmental person she’d ever met but Catra would rather willingly choke on one of those little cups than submit to the mortifying ideal of putting out crappy work just so people could gawk at it and tell her how “talented” she was. She knew she was hot shit, big fucking whoop.

_ A bold lean into your typical arrogance,  _ a brooding voice dripping with masculine condescension rang in her head, but Catra shook the thought away with a roll of her eyes.

Fuck Hordak’s judgment; _that’s _the attitude that got her a book deal, _that’s _the attitude that got her an internship at one of the most reputable studios in the upper west side, so until it bit Catra in the ass with more than just one person (the same one who decided to voluntarily date this mess) then she’d be shelving vulnerability for another day and sticking with hissing at potential audience members in the name of well earned secrecy.

“And I know that, but we can’t put them in the fucking dishwasher!” responded Catra, gesturing back to their kitchen while her boobs smudged black soot across dirty lines and all over her tank top. “Or do I need you to remind of what happened to Rapunzel’s face the last time Scorpia made chili?”

“Oh yes, that was one of the more tragic casualties of my work.”

“Did you just  _ cross  _ yourself?!”

“That being said,  _ all  _ food is better in smaller quantities. And you know how rarely I speak in absolutes.” Entrapta finished with a curt nod, her ponytails bouncing in tandem. 

“Uh huh,” Catra gave her a bored nod as she unfolded herself, cursing under her breath when she took in the damage her secrecy stunt had done to the stark depths of Loo-Kee’s face in her fourteenth drawing of the cat so far that night (she was bored, burnt out as hell, and needed something basic to do with her hands or said burnt out boredom might lead to some bad shit) and started rummaging around in her mess of a bed for her blending stump. Fuck, she just had it a second ago! This,  _ this _ is what she got for being so fucking dirt poor that she couldn’t even afford a table or desk to draw on like a normal person that she just had to sleep in a buttload of art supplies and drawing paper like it was a nest at this point.

_ God if I don’t clean this up before Scorpia gets home tomorrow she’s gonna go through my stuff again trying to clean up it herself and then she’ll go through my sketchook and I’ll have to explain  _ those  _ drawings of Adora again and I’m sure as  _ hell  _ not fucking going through that again- ah ha!  _ Catra ran her tongue over her teeth as she emerged victorious with the blending stump, only to be alerted by the hairs standing on edge on the back of her neck that a certain purple-haired teacup enthusiast was still breathing over her. Sighing, Catra pinched her nose, smearing charcoal all over her face, “Go to work, Entrapta.”

“Subject has asked me to go to work. She has not touched my macaroni,” whispered her roommate and Catra whirled around to find her muttering into that damn recorder. “Now she is looking at me and seems annoyed.” 

“Uh, what did I say about calling me subject?”

“That it’s dehumanizing as shit and makes you want to throw me out the nearest window?” Entrapta repeated verbatim.

Okay, yeah, now that is was being said back to her she could her what a bitch she was when she yelled that. Whatever, she probably had a migraine. “‘Trapta, I’m not- stop moving away from the bed I’m not gonna throw you out my window, Jesus! Just go to work, you’re gonna miss the bus and I refuse to take you because  _ I’m  _ going to jump out the window if I have to drive again today.” Fucking Uber.  _ Fuck  _ driving for Uber. Working a whole miserable twelve hours that day without a single real break, Catra had added another 200 miles to Marshmallow’s dash and enough cash to her bank to get her through the rest of this month’s growing bill pile, but like hell was she about to put her tired ass foot back on the accelerator before at  _ least  _ noon tomorrow. 

Curling her numb toes in as she drew her knees to her chest, she eyed Entrapta, then the door, then Entrapta, and the door  _ again.  _ Meanwhile, her roommate just fucking stood there, blinking at her with those long, beautiful eyelashes of hers that Catra was so insanely jealous of and kind of wanted to rip out at the moment. Guess she was not getting the point. Or she  _ wanted  _ something. “Ugh,” Catra dropped her forehead on her knee with a pathetic  _ wump,  _ “ _ fine,  _ you can collect observations of me or- or whatever when you get home! Just  _ go,  _ okay?”

“Yay! I can finally reopen the Catra sleep cycle-”  _ oh my fucking god,  _ “file now that I have your explicit permission! Bow was really adamant I start getting consent because it breaks some sort of ethical rule-”

“En _ trapta _ !” 

“Oh. Okay Catra I’m leaving for my shift now! Tell Adora I said ``hi!” 

Catra sighed against her knee cap again as Entrapta shimmied away from her bed and whacked the back of her head with a purple pigtail. Finally, some fucking peace and quiet. Her stomach seemed to rumble on cue, the starch smell of macaroni hitting her full force now that the super pleasant aroma of mechanical grease and smoke had stopped assaulting her senses. God, she was hungry as  _ fuck _ . Her only pit stop today was a sketchy gas station on the edge of the lower east side where she splurged on an overpriced bag of Bugles and a Five Hour Energy, both which she downed in record time. And yeah, the mac’n’cheese probably had car oil or strains of some deadly bacteria in it, but Entrapta was nice enough to save her some of the dinner she made.  _ Oh shit I should say  _ “thank you- dammit she’s gone. Whatever.” 

Thinking she was in the clear of dumb interruptions-  _ watch Scorpia come in in 3...2...1…-  _ Catra turned back to her sketch book rolling the blending stump between her fingers when the sudden sound of her girlfriend’s voice cut through the gentle static that filtered as the only sound in the aparmtent after Entrapta slamming the door shut threw her off her game and scared the freaking shit out of her.

“Catra sleep cycle file? What’s that-”

“ _ JESUS-  _ Adora!” Catra screamed as all her hair stood on end and she tumbled backwards out of her bed. Her ass hit carpet and Adora’s laughter came through her phone.  _ Good to know me getting hurt is funny as hell to her.  _ Rolling her eyes and rubbing her butt, Catra climbed back into her bed/nest of paper, homework and art supplies, glaring daggers at her cell phone screen where her dumb girlfriend was laughing so fucking hard she was wiping tears from her face and snorting. Damn it why did she have to look so fucking cute with her face scrunched up like that?

“I’m sorry-” she struggled to say, “That- that was  _ funny-” _

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck you Adora.” 

Fuck, Catra had forgotten they were facetiming. Which was  _ dumb.  _ They’d been doing this every night they didn’t get too see each other face to face since they’d started going out. Jesus, that felt like forever ago. She should be used to Adora’s face right there her cell phone screen propped up against the window beside her bed by now. 

Facetiming was Adora’s idea- or at least it was her doing. Even before they were pinning each other against walls and finding each other’s stray hairs in their showers, Adora called almost every day- after her run, during her lunch break at the bakery, from the supply closet at Light Spinners- to talk and run through She Ra. And not She Ra. Catra hated herself for it, but she began to look forward to her phone buzzing in her pocket and Adora’s memorized number flashing on the screen, her mindless sketch of She Ra she’d snapshotted and made the other woman’s contact photo making her heart skip a beat every time she laid eyes on it. Being the idiot she was sometimes, it totally went over Catra’s head just how much Adora was using their project as a reason to see her and talk to her- people usually  _ avoided  _ her, keeping a strict and insulting distance- until it was spelled out by the author herself. 

When they started going out, Catra expected the phone calls to come to a stop. Probably because her past attachments were soul sucking parasites who bled her dry and left her stranded in the desert landscape of her abandonment issues, so who was to say the pretty Bright Moon Princess wasn’t looking for the nearest exit at the soonest possible convenience. Adora got what she wanted right? A chance to ease her guilt and step ladder to publication. She scratched that itch, why make it a scar?

But when the phone calls didn’t stop, when Adora kept checking in on her and kept treating her like her partner by updating her on She Ra, it was like cement brick to the head, the realization that Adora’s motivation in calling lay in just wanting to hear her voice. Somewhere in the depths of that realization did Catra find the courage to be the person to hit the call button first every once and awhile. Course it scared the shit out of Adora the first few times. Great, Catra’s spontaneous acts of romance were  _ so _ spontaneous her girlfriend’s first thoughts were along the line of death, destruction, and the probability that something was on fire (and in Catra’s apartment, the last one wasn’t really that much of a stretch).

Then one night her phone lit up, vibrating across the carpet of the living room floor as Catra lay there half watching a rerun of  _ The L Word _ that Scorpia had left on there TV while trying to will the beginnings of a bitching migraine away. Catra picked herself up and crawled to it, expecting to find her girlfriend’s digits- no one else but those fucking robocalls dared try and get ahold of her- on her screen and  _ not _ a random request from Adora to facetime. Stomach dropping like a fucking rock as she realized what was different, Catra’s shaking fingers swiped up, her brain filling up with thoughts and images of death, destruction, and bakeries on fire. She hadn’t heard from Adora all day- not a single text, that  _ hypocrite- _ and all of a sudden she’s just blowing up Catra’s phone wanting to see her  _ face?  _

What kind of bullshit was that?!

“What, Adora- What the  _ hell _ is going on-”

“Okay, I need your opinion on something,” she started, not missing a beat after she showed up on screen, “So in the tenth chapter we have the illustration of your character giving my character back the sword while she’s standing with book Glimmer and Veronica and I were talking about the positioning of that particular drawing today.  _ She _ thinks it would be better a couple paragraphs down below the exchange of dialogue our characters have-” God, did she even take a breath? “-and I’m not sure how  _ I  _ feel about moving it, and since you’re the artist and you’ve got an eye for this, plus it is your work, I wanted to ask you.”

Catra exhaled like a freaking balloon deflating, her tired and traumatized body expelling a gross amount of panic. She leaned back until she was laying back on the floor, the carpet itching at her scarred skin, and stood the phone up against the edge of the couch. “I hate you, you know that?”

“Um…” Adora scrunched her shoulders together and bit her lip, her perfect eyebrows furrowing.

“Facetime?  _ Really,  _ Adora?” 

“What, I needed to show you the drawing and the placement!”

“I could’ve pulled it up on my computer, dingus.” Catra pointed out as she hoisted herself on her elbow.

Adora’s face fell and she mumbled something. “What was that?” Okay, at this point Catra was just being obnoxious as fuck just to get back at her for making her almost shit herself. Plus she was  _ adorable  _ when she was like this, Catra couldn’t resist.

“I  _ said,”  _ Adora grumbled, her face turning a bright shade of pink in the matter of three seconds and Catra laughed under her breath,  _ “ _ screw you, so what if I wanted to see your dumb face after missing you for three days…  _ dingus!” _

_ Well, fuck. _

Adora, She Ra illustration questions in hand, called the next day around the same time (right in the middle of Scorpia’s imposed Super Pal Trio-  _ wow,  _ did Catra regret opening her mouth about She Ra and wow did regret spilling certain details about group nicknames her roommate practically begged her for- game night that included a game of Yahtzee and Scrabble; Entrapta was kicking both their asses) and Catra managed not to make a complete ass of herself that time around. And the next time Adora called about She Ra. And the time after that, when she stopped talking about the book altogether. And then  _ Catra  _ started pulling out those sappy one liners like “I missed your dumb face,” and “I can’t believe I looked forward to talking to such a giant dork all day.” She was getting pretty good at this girlfriend shit. 

Talking Adora every night, it was nice. Comfortable. Familiar. Catra would be full out fucking lying if she said she expected Adora to make time for her; she was a hot shot author now, the fact that Catra was not some forgotten task to complete still shook her to her core and made her question everything she knew, constantly. Plus that dumb publishing company was burying Adora. She couldn’t so much as change a fucking comma in her work without those assholes ripping her a new one, but she was at no point allowed to hand in the manuscript- the one she put her literal blood, sweat, and tears- the way it was. Too many times had Catra opened her screen to find her on the edge of a breakdown, drowning in doubts and insecurities that Catra could not talk out of her for the fucking life of her. And  _ that  _ made her feel like incapable shit, a fraud not good enough for someone like her, made her want to run away to escape the imminent failure and rejection. But she stayed on those calls, her imposter girlfriend syndrome overpowered by the selfish need to be the person Adora came to when she twisted herself in an emotional knot, even if Catra couldn’t untie it. 

This, the sucky series of edits, was just the start, too- according to Adora. They finished the original draft back in May, editing She Ra was taking most of the long, latent summer, and a finished product might not be a physical product until at least November. 

Catra always found herself itching at her skin like she wanted to tear it off when Adora talked about it. November. That seemed so god damn far away, such a goddamn long time to wait for a paycheck, wait to see their hard work… wait to see if they were still a team. Wait to see if Catra hadn’t caved to the voices of Weaver and Hordak and done something, something she couldn’t take back, to permenantly fuck them up and break them for good. 

Or Adora left. Again, without looking back. Whatever Adora saw in Catra, whatever made her want to hear her voice and her laugh and see her just because she missed her crooked smile and split eyes, Catra’s heart choked on the idea that one day it could all fade. Like the light in her mother’s eyes or the pride in her foster father’s heart. Nothing good ever lasted, not when it came to her. She could say that was the characteristic abandonment issues talking, trying to prepare her for the inevitable crash instead hitting the breaks like a normal fucking person, but Catra knew the universe had it out for her. And every night, by swiping up on Adora’s requests to Facetime, she risked exposing the very clinginess that others found repulsive and smothering. 

_ Adora hasn’t said jackshit about me bothering her, and she’s the one who calls every night,  _ Catra would tell herself on loop as she curled up in bed, hugging and clawing at her pillow with broken stiletto nails, swallowing screams and trying to push out memories of nightmares where Adora dumped her or abandoned her or left her without looking back again. All she wanted in those dark moments was to hear Adora’s voice, to be told she was being stupid and borderline and that she was  _ just  _ dreaming. But reaching and calling was to admit weakness and to cling Adora like a battered animal clung to stuffed version of themselves. There was no point in handing her girlfriend fear that she had no responsibility for.

Instead, Catra flung her phone and the temptation to use it to the other end of her bed, buried herself in her comforter and tried so fucking desperately not to think about how Adora’s attentiveness was nothing but temporary and how there would be a day where her phone wouldn’t ring.

_ Don’t think like that,  _ she’d think to herself as she bit down on her tongue,  _ don’t fucking thing like that.  _ Like telling herself that ever worked. 

For now they were stranded in the never ending humid days of July, trying to squeeze in date nights between sleepovers (having two roommates each and a bed on the verge of falling apart right in her living room made any initimacy beyond dozing off on the couch while binge watching Jane the Virgin pretty fucking difficult, much the chagrin of Catra’s irritating libido) and making up the rest with long text chains and nights spent facetiming. As much as it sucked, as much fucking work as it took to keep this up and as exhausted as Catra was, hearing Adora’s voice gave her the drive to push through an endless mountain exams and work. Dependent, hell she’d  _ never  _ ever say she was dependent on anything  _ ever  _ again, but she was becoming… more connected, shedding irrational thoughts like they were skins and allowing herself to expose her weaknesses despite the chokehold of her fears and history of instability, risk bumps and bruises, in the overcoming need to be wanted by someone like Adora.

Tonight was no different. Catra called after showering (she’d texted Adora she smelled like ass and Adora told her to take her time, she had dishes to do and laundry to catch up on, and two roommates debating which Paddington movie was better so she  _ had  _ to get in on that) and flopping on her mess of a bed before commanding her shitty iPhone to call her girlfriend. Adora’s bright face greeted her, the excitement in her words masking the hoarseness in her voice and distracting from the deepening dark circles under her ocean eyes. They settled into their comfortable routine; exchanging stories about their days from annoying passengers to annoying bakery customers, Adora worked on her laptop, combing through her writing as Catra flipped through her sketchbook before sketching out the basic shapes of Loo-Kee’s head. Right before Entrapta gifted her a million cups of mac’n’cheese, Adora had said something about Bow and potatoes and needing Bow’s potatoes- Catra didn’t know, Loo-Kee’s whiskers looked like crap in charcoal and she was too busy kicking herself for not using graphite to listen to Adora talk about Rainbow’s cooking- and she had left her room in search of said snack.

“You just- you fell  _ off  _ the bed,” giggled Adora, “and paper went  _ everywhere _ .”

“Laugh it up, Princess.” Catra rolled her eyes as far back as they would go, throwing herself onto her bed. Jesus, she’d hit that unforgiving floor  _ hard.  _

Adora snorted. “Oh I will. That was amazing, your face- oh my God, your  _ face  _ was classic.”

“You  _ bruised  _ my  _ ass.”  _

“Well then- tell your- tell your ass I said sorry.” Adora’s laughter had faded off and the dork had somehow managed to come down off her high and regain her composure enough for  _ that  _ sassy response. Pulling out her sketchbook from the chaos of the fall, Catra flipped her off before throwing it open to her sketch of her mallcat friend.

“My ass hopes you choke on those potatoes.” Again, her stomach rumbled and her gaze flickered up to the McDonald’s tray still teetering on the edge of her bed. Ugh, was her hunger worth the potential repeat of ‘Trapta’s Taco Tuesday- and could their plumbing even handle that again- to try the cheesy pasta before her? ‘Cause only the god that had abandoned them knew what sneaky shit that mad scientist splashed in those teacups. But Adora was a wifi signal away from her shoving what looked like roasted and seasoned potatoes in her mouth at the speed of light, too far away and probably too selfish to share. 

“Hmm,” Adora shrugged with her mouth full and for a split second, Catra was seized by the full force of her previous hatred and resentment that she harboured against her for thirteen years. “What’d Entrapta make you?” 

Blinking, Catra snapped out of the intense emotion and looked around. “Oh, uh, mac’n’cheese. In these fucking little tiny cups, gah I told her to stop doing that!”

“Ha,” Adora snorted in almost dreamy way, “I remember she used to do that when we were at University. After she got kicked out Perfuma still ate out of the small bowls because she couldn’t afford to buy anymore tupperware.”

“Hey, what are the odds she poisoned this?” Catra asked, picking up the half melted Jasmine cup and daring to sniff it. Expecting to be smacked in the nose by the smell of chlorine or wiper fluid (what? An unconscious subject would be much easier to experiment on than her mouthy ass, she couldn’t blame Entrapta for getting out the chloroform in the name of some solid results), her shoulders relaxed when all she could pick up was the normal, gooey aroma of processed cheese. 

“Well, what does it smell like?”

“Normal, I guess? Fuck it, I’m just gonna eat it- God, I’m  _ starving.” _ Shrugging with reckless abandon, Catra stuck her finger in the slimy pasta, pushing past the nasty sensation of cheese on her skin, and shoveled the noodles into her mouth without another thought. The first bite didn’t hurt, so she dove straight back in. Hmm, was that tabasco sauce?  _ And a shit ton of parmesan, holy crap Entrapta. _

“Are you eating that with your finger?” Adora laughed, her nose scrunching up and crumbs of garlic dotting her chin. Between their little “work-dates” (god Catra missed those) and dinners shared over the light of their iPhones, her girlfriend was more than used to Catra’s unorthodox eating habits and never shuddered or worse, turned her nose up. ‘Cause it turned out she wasn’t any better. The upper west side princess didn’t recoil when Catra talked with her mouth full and had her fair share of belches and burps. One time Adora flossed during a call. That night Catra wondered if  _ she _ was the one with all the fucking manners, while also tossing around the idea that  _ this  _ was the person she was dating and that also that person was comfortable enough to fucking floss around her.

Scooping another chunk of macaroni- she was on tea cup number three- up and into her mouth, Catra nodded “Mhmm. She didn’t give me a fucking fork, Adora, I’m improvising.”

“I’m not judging.” Adora winked, popping another slice of potato in her mouth.

“Um, okay, you were saying something before you left and scared the shit out of me?” Catra gave her a side eye as she continued eating, earning a giggle out of her girlfriend. “Something about tearing Veronica’s highlights out?”

“I didn’t say tear her highlights out, Catra. It was her fake eyelashes.” Adora rolled her eyes and tossed her empty bowl out of the frame. 

“You have an anger issue, babe.” Catra said with as much genuine endearance as someone like her could muster, knowing full well she was the batshit crazy pot calling the kettle black. Whatever, birds of a feather, right?

“That, and sixty more pages to go through tonight,” she sighed. 

Catra almost choked on a macaroni noodle in the back of her throat. “ _ Sixty?  _ A fucking an hour ago it was forty!”  _ That bitch. I’ll tear her motherfucking eyelashes out myself. _

"It was, but I got an email when you were telling me about that woman who talked about her sugar daddy the entire time so I didn’t say anything. She sent me twenty more pages of suggestions that she wants done before Friday, but I’ve budgeted out all my time to go shopping with Bow for that new couch he wants to look at, and then going to the restaurant supply store to pick some stuff for the bakery, and then I was gonna meet up with you to go see Loo-kee and the cats Friday night, so I  _ need _ to get this done tonight. But seriously, it’s no big deal.”

No big deal, huh? Either it was Adora’s words or Entrapta’s cooking, but something in that moment made Catra’s stomach twist and squirm until it tied itself into a painful knot. Her eyes flickered to the screen, and she swallowed, taking in the pale color of her girlfriend’s face contrasted by the dark circles kissing her eyes, the wisps of amber hair escaping a tight ponytail, her spent expression behind a forced and exhausted facade of joy. Why was she asking Adora to do this? To be here with her when she obviously needed to be somewhere else? To soothe her own shitty moods and dumb, irrational fears that if they didn’t talk everyday Catra would lose her like she lost everyone else? Her hard working, determined as fuck girlfriend had been taking the burnt of the burden of their shared project so they could leave behind their pathetic paycheck-to-paycheck lives and Catra was the selfish bitch taking up time she should be resting and it didn’t sit right in her stomach next to all that damn mac’n’cheese.

Spending time with Adora was worth its weight it fucking gold, but this feeling- the way it crawled up her arms and her chest, slowly crushing her lungs and her stomach with ever increasing pressure- this guilt was going to kill her before this call was over, goddamn it. Then Adora would have guilt over thinking she killed her  _ on top of  _ a novel to publish. Catra had been on this better person bender; if she couldn’t change for the person she cared about the most than what the fuck had this all been for?

_ Jesus, uh- what would Scorpia do?  _ God, she should get Sea Hawk to make her a bracelet with the lettered beads W-W-S-D because it was practically becoming her fucking motto. Scorpia had her shit together enough to help others do the same. And that was far from where Catra was at, fuck she was even messier than Adora, but Scorpia’s gentle way with the world gave her a good model to start with, a how to be a good person 101 crash course.  _ Let’s see, Scorpia confiscates my laptop and book bag when I’m in the bathroom, that sneaky fucking narc, to make me stop studying and sleep. She’ll make me come cook with her so I eat. And because she thinks that being Latina makes me a better cook when  _ she’s _ the one watching, crying, and yelling during episodes of Chopped Junior. _

Catra dug her incisors into the skin of her lip, glancing sideways at Adora. The other woman hadn’t waited for a response from her girlfriend; Adora dove straight into editing those pages, twirling the ends of her ponytail as her eye twitched wildly. Wow, she needed like a solid week of uninterrupted sleep. She needed someone to take that laptop away from her like a parent confiscating a toy from a child. That was the cubersome thick as fuck wall Catra kept running into._ I’m _not _there to do those things_ _for her and if I could talk her like Scorpia talks to fuck, well everyone, then I could cure Adora of her dumb anxieties! _

“Hey look, if you need to go,” Catra sighed, rubbing her arms as she resigned herself to her sucky choice. Selflessness. That was the page Catra decided to tear out of her kind and altruistic roommate’s book. It was either that or call Adora’s roommates and fuck that; she was in no mood to talk to a grumpy Sparkles or Bow unable to hear her through the phone because he kept getting face mask gunk all over his freaking phone. Catra would just have to thank Scorpia later by watching a Chopped Junior marathon, MegaMart brand snacks and all, with her. “I can just check in on you tomorrow to make sure you’re not dead.” 

Yep. Had to sneak that detail in before letting Adora go. Because as selfless as Catra was being right now, she was at her beaten and bruised heart still a selfish, mutilated monster by design and needed to get her Adora hours in some how. 

_ I could put off work for a few hours and I dunno, go by her apartment tomorrow with breakfast burritos and make sure she showers.  _ Catra shuddered, trying to rid herself of the gross taste in her mouth by shoveling another finger scoop of macaroni in her mouth. God, she couldn’t decide if that thought made her lame as fuck or if it meant she was making actual progress. 

“No, it’s  _ fine _ Catra.” Yawning, Adora let her off the hook with a high pitched finish.  _ Oh great, now she’s fucking loopy,  _ Catra gagged, pushing back flashbacks of the time Adora got shitfaced at Light Spinner’s. Her ass already hurt enough. “Glimmer went to bed a while ago and as soon as Bow is done cleaning the kitchen he’s checking in too, he already put his face mask on…” She chewed on her lip for half a second as Catra rolled her eyes at the image of Bow parading with cucumbers on his eyes. Bright Mooners, ugh, “-and... if I’m being completely honest with Catra, it’s a _ lot _ less lonely to go through Veronica’s notes when I’m with you. You don’t have to go- I mean- if you need to, that's fine, I really don’t mind-”

“Shut up, Adora.” Catra drew her words out, fighting back one hell of a smile as she forced her eyes to stay staring at her sketchbook. Adora liked having her around. Adora was less lonely when she was with her. All Catra’s life she was starved and denied of the validation she so badly craved and hungered for, let those around her wield it like a weapon to control and bend her will- god, how many  _ stupid _ fucking things had she let happen because a parental figure chose to talk her up instead of down?- and in Adora’s words she could’ve drowned and drowned forever. An uncomfortable warmth spread through her chest and shoulders, an effect only her girlfriend could possibly have. No one else could render her  _ this  _ damn weak so easily. Catra rubbed her hand under her bra and across her boob, smearing the charcoal from her hands all over her goosebumps.

“Catra, do you  _ like  _ hanging out with me?” laughed Adora with an irritating amount of smugness and Catra whirled around. Oh fuck, she must’ve seen Catra turn her body into a canvas in her moment of idiotic vulnerability. Giggling like she was on fucking laughing gas, Adora shifted her weight and leaned down on her elbow, resting her head on her pillow. “Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing!”

Hanging her head back, Catra gave her a massive eye roll and almost flipped her off again. Yeah, she should’ve seen this coming. “Don’t push it, princess.”

“Sorry I’m just savoring this moment-”

“Ad _ ora _ -”

“You’re pretty cute when you’re embarrassed-”

“I’m hanging up now!”

“Hey, wait!” Adora protested, cutting off Catra and stopping her arm a few inches from her phone. There was more than a hint of crazed panic in her words that made Catra think she might’ve gone too far this time with her teasing. Surprise surprise. Leave it to Catra to fuck up someone with anxiety issues  _ more. _ “I’m  _ kidding,  _ Catra _ . _ ”

_ Now who does that sound like that?  _ Mary Mother of God, how could the cruel voice in her head sound like  _ both  _ Mrs. Weaver  _ and  _ Hordak at the same fucking time?

Catra curled her fingers into a relaxed fist and then stretched them out again. Breathing out through her nose like Scorpia and the combined efforts of that doctor she found taught her, she glanced at the screen to find her girlfriend looking no different than before Catra turned away to indulge in the hauntings of her ghosts. Fatigued as hell and just as frazzled, just like she was five minutes ago. Except now there was something echoing in Adora’s eyes, reflected in the false calm of her ocean eyes, that hit Catra like a left hook to her jaw. Jesus Christ, did she recognize that pleading gaze, those begging irises. It was looking in a god damn mirror.

_ Don’t go,  _ her eyes said.  _ Please don’t go. _

Right, Catra wasn’t the only one who could claim massive dysfunctionality and a thing for being left on the doorstep. Adora’s body may have been safer in Bright Moon’s comfortable shadow, but her mind? Her big smart brain had not been as kind as living life surrounded by rich friends and even richer opportunities. It wasn’t a competition of ugly pain and tragedy- if it was Catra would win for  _ once-  _ but Adora would definitely take home an honorary mention in the category most life plans ruined. And having those perfect sparkly plans ruined by death by car crash, death by cancer, and torn ligaments had definitely fucked her up, Catra had to at least say they had that in common. 

_ Oh Adora, always so perfect, so smart and so pretty and Mrs. Weaver’s favorite,  _ everyone’s  _ favorite,  _ Catra used to think when they were growing up and she watched Adora soak in the love she was starved of from afar, when she lay alone and scared in her room at Hordak’s house listening to the angry, raging criminals below her, when she challenged some random fuck to darts at whatever bar so she could pretend whatever picture was her childhood bestfriend after getting rejected by the straightest blonde women drinking skinny margaritas and fruity cocktails.

_ Oh Adora, always the strongest and bravest person in the room about break at any minute because she fucking sucks at setting boundaries and living in the shadows of two dead mothers and one shadowy bitch of a snake parading around as one,  _ Catra found herself thinking it more and more these days, when she walked in the bakery to find Adora had volunteered to cover a shift for Bow, when she saw the way Adora’s eyes glazed over as she watched moms pushing around strollers, when she woke up during one sleepover to a cold empty bed and found Adora hyperventalating on her bathroom floor with lights off so she wouldn’t “bother her” after a nightmare about Mrs. Weaver.

_ Oh Adora,  _ sighed Catra, turning the phone toward her. “So am I. Babe, you need some fucking sleep-”

"I’m fine, it’s just like three more hours of this.” Adora waved her off. 

_ The fuck- three more hours?! _

Catra wanted to fight her. Catra wanted to yell and scream some sense at her, that she couldn’t keep doing this, that Catra  _ needed  _ her so she couldn’t kill herself over this book, but like hell was about let  _ that _ be said out loud. Adora cared about She Ra more than anything else in the goddamn world; Catra could kiss her and that paycheck goodbye if she wrestled it out of her hands. And Catra… Catra didn’t  _ need  _ anybody. She couldn’t need someone who could leave her stranded. Again. 

Besides, she was being selfless. Or she was  _ trying _ to be. She was still going to throw things at Adora next time they were face to face and tell her to fuck off straight to bed. Make her sleep on the damn couch of the cat cafe. But for now it was “what-would-Scorpia-do” hours.

Damn, she really should get that made into a bracelet. 

“You’re an idiot.” Catra hissed, touching the tip of her stiletto nail to the cracked screen of her phone. Again, she was  _ trying to be _ selfless, she wasn’t aiming to be the fucking Mother Tersea of girlfriends. “But if you’re gonna do this, I’m doing it with you. Give me something to draw that will take up three fucking hours, you moron.”

“Catra, you don’t have to-”

“Shut  _ up _ and edit so we can go to bed, Adora!” The command left her mouth almost too harshly and she could  _ hit  _ herself because Scorpia would  _ never  _ yell.  _ What the  _ fuck  _ do you think you’re doing? _ Scorpia wouldn’t even raise her voice! Not even Entrapta in all her chaotic glory and glorious chaos would yell. Too bad Catra ran on reflex and instinct instead of logic and reasoning. Also, she was a fucking idiot and shit girlfriend.

But instead turning a fiery red and putting up a fight, Adora’s face softened at her girlfriend’s words and her eyes flickered away from the call to her laptop screen. “Okay,” she responded, and Catra’s whole body relaxed. The next thing she heard was the soft clicks of Adora’s keyboard, and she fought back a proud smile as she picked her blending stump back up, rolling it under her forefinger and thumb.

_ Maybe not a  _ shit _ girlfriend,  _ she dug a playful tooth into her bottom lip, stealing glances of Adora hard at work. It was-  _ she _ was- kind of fucking sexy. Not just the bossing her around and the way Adora drank it up almost greedily, but the way she took to the ground running at the sound of the whip. It would be a lot fucking sexier if they didn’t both look like three day old corpses rotting in the back of Marshmallow’s trunk, duh, but that was the  _ next _ step in this never-ending process. 

_ If we ever get there,  _ the cruel thought danced in her head and she winced, growling under her breath.  _ Now is  _ not  _ the fucking time.  _ Catra’s grip on her blending stump tightened as she pushed the voices her past caretakers turned abusers from the depths of her mind and forced herself to focus- not dissociate, for fuck’s sake- on the sound of Adora typing. She could self-sabotage later, once this call was over and this aggravating drawing of Loo-kee had straightened itself out.

So Catra took to the paper, ignoring the pressure of the pain in her spine that rose like a quiet breathing flame from the most mangled parts of her scar, as Adora took to her words, and pretty soon the only sounds were the scratching of Catra’s pencil contrasted against the sound of Adora’s computer. A kind of forever passed in that quiet lull, illuminated by the dim golden light of Catra’s shitty lamp and the bright white street lights filtering in through her window. Every once in a while her ear would twitch picking up the sound of Adora turning in her bed or whispering something incomprehensible. Catra never bothered to ask what she said. Asking would slow Adora down, and just because that five hour energy was keeping Catra’s bloodshot eyes open now didn’t guarantee where she would be twenty minutes from now. Who knew being Adora’s ride or die meant sitting here tired as shit and bored as hell? The things Catra did for Adora. 

_ Ugh,  _ Catra cocked her head, shifting her body weight until she was standing on the tips of her toes, and took the grayscale cat in, trying to figure out why the hell it looked so wrong even with her blurry vision. Hiccuping, Catra tasted bile and mac’n’cheese.  _ I’m fucking smearing him with my left hand,  _ that’s  _ what’s happening.  _ God, being a left handed artist was absolute hell. Flexing her right hand (she had to stretch the ligaments after shattering the bone every time she drew with it now that she was finally free of that damn ugly cast, the doctor had said, or something along those lines she hadn’t exactly been paying attention to his dumb voice going on and on) Catra grunted and dug out her rubber eraser from under her pillow with her left hand. Then with her pencil in her right hand, rubber eraser in her left, and blending stump between her teeth, Catra attacked the graphite lines of Loo-kee’s fucked up whiskers, alternating between the pencil and the eraser until she was satisfied with the entire picture. 

“Fucking finally,” she grumbled under her breath. This was the good shit Catra could show her baby boy on Friday night. Scribbling the date underneath his fluffy scruff and the words “ _ dreaming with you tonight,” _ Catra spoke in what felt like the first time in a fucking hour, “I finished the sketch of our son, I think he’ll approve. You better have come up with something damn good for me to draw now that I’m done with Loo-kee, Adora- Adora?”

Catra looked up from her sketchbook towards her phone, and that’s when her dumbass finally noticed. The furious typing had let up. Actually, it had let up a  _ while  _ ago but she was too entranced and relaxed by the act of putting pencil to paper that it had gone over her head. It’s not like it got completely quiet after the sound of keys stopped coming through her speaker either; no, there was no empty void left because it had been filled by another noise Catra was  _ more  _ than used to at this point. Adora snoring. 

“Oh my God.” Of course. Of  _ fucking  _ course, Adora had fallen asleep half way through her mandated work. That’s what she gets for pushing herself like a fucking racehorse, going around thinking she could end her days at 1:30 in the morning (if they were  _ lucky _ ) and getting up at the 5:00, the ass crack of dawn to run all over the place handing out pieces of herself to the vultures who never fucking seemed to stop circling her kindness. That’s what she gets for ignoring Catra concerns and not taking her seriously: drooling, snoring, and sleeping softly as a goddamn baby on her laptop keyboard with her She-Ra documents probably open. 

Catra stifled a mean laugh thinking about the word document Adora was gonna wake up to. No doubt, at this point it probably read something like,

_ “For the Honor of Grayskulaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaajgggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh,,,,,,,,hhhhhhhhhhhhhh99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 f.”  _ For like fourteen paragraphs.

Whatever, she deserved it.

And of course in losing consciousness, Adora left Catra at a complicated fork in the road. “Fuck me,” Catra sighed, her legs going limped as she crossed them. Seriously,  _ what  _ was she supposed to do at this point? Was it on her to make a shit ton of noise and give her a sheepish apology when she succeeded in scaring her awake? That felt like a dick move. Did Catra let her keep sleeping and hang up only for Adora to wake up by herself and confused? That felt like an ever dicker dick move. For what it was worth, waking up by herself having fallen asleep next to someone- yes, even over the phone,  _ duh-  _ to a dark and empty space was one of Catra’s top ten nightmares. How the hell was she supposed to inflict one of her worst nightmares on her  _ girlfriend _ ?

_ Okay, so I guess hanging up is a big fat no. What do I do about the fact that she’s out fucking cold? _

This is not what Catra signed up for when she kissed Adora in that hospital, doped up on painkillers and the scent of her lotion. Fuck this, she signed up to held by someone who didn’t recoil at the sight of her and maybe fucked raw enough to forget her name, not a moral dilemma every five fucking minutes! Honestly  _ why  _ had the universe let her be in charge of another person? It knew her track record, it knew she could barely take care of her own self let alone anyone else! She couldn’t even take a break from driving to grab a burger for dinner and had to be fed out of tea cups by her roommate who once ran her over with a MegaMart forklift, for God’s sake.

If Catra didn’t wake Adora up, she didn’t get the pages done and Veronica would be on her ass. Then, she’d have to skip all those things with Bow and Glimmer and worst of all in Catra’s selfish opinion, cancel their date. She’d be miserable. 

If Catra woke Adora up, she’d have to spend the next couple of hours going through her work with a fine tooth comb. Then she’d have to stay on call with the asshole who had the audacity to wake her up and be a walking zombie the next morning. She’d be miserable. 

“UghhhHHHHHH.” Catra groaned, digging the palms of her hands into her eyes, repeatedly asking herself  _ what would Scorpia do, what would Scorpia do, what would Scorpia do? Hell, what would  _ Entrapta _ do?  _

“Well, Entrapta would just sit here whispering her observations into that damn recorder because this is the fucking jackpot!” she growled, biting down on a stiletto nail. Okay, now at a complete loss for what to do, she was full on panicking; her breathing was more like wheezing at this point, her knee bouncing up and down whacking her foot, her right canine wreaking havoc on her nail. Shit, is this how her girlfriend felt 24/7? How was Adora not a barely functioning puddle on the floor most of the time? If this was how she breathed more often than not- several short, forced inhales for every one exhale- how was oxygen even getting to her brain? It definitely wasn’t getting to Catra’s!

_ Jesus fuck, I’m glad it’s me in this situation and not the other way around, ‘cause I don’t know how Adora would know what to do- wait, would she?  _ Catra stopped the thought flat in its tracks and took her thumb out her mouth, wiping the drool off her nail on her jeans. God damn it, not only was Adora’s freaking anxiety turning out to be contagious as the fucking flu (Catra had  _ never  _ had this happen to her, the shortness of breath, the racing thoughts, the unstable speeding heartbeat, all trademarks of a good ol’ panic attack- which was saying something given her severely fucked up childhood- until she crossed paths again with Adora; well, truth be told she’d never felt the way she felt about Adora about anyone else but they were sure as hell  _ not  _ getting into that right now!) but the panic straining the walls of her heart had tricked into doubting Adora’s capabilities. To Catra’s surprise, that rational thought stuck to her like glue. Who the fuck knew what Adora would do in her place? Yeah she might freak the hell out, or she might pull off the right decision.

Adora had this trick up her sleeve. Catra had started recognizing it the more time they spent together attached at the hip. Whenever someone else was in a more pressing situation, Adora could beat her anxiety to satisfy their needs. And when it came to Catra, nine times out of ten Adora could brush off her doubts and navigate her fear like it was a practiced obstacle course. Because Adora gave a fuck about Catra.

_ What would Adora do right now?  _ Catra chewed her lip and pulled at a stray curl.  _ C’mon Jauregui you know her! Maybe better than any of those hoes she calls her friends. You fucking grew up with her! And you haven’t given her a second to breathe since she kissed you.  _ “Adora…” drawing out her name, Catra leaned on her stomach until she was in front of the camera. Whether she was calling to her to solve the problem or just to see if she would wake up, fuck if Catra knew. “Adora…”

Nothing. No response from her comatose girlfriend. Not even a jolt or a moan of protest, Adora’s usual ways of coming back to consciousness.  _ Okay, yeah, she is really  _ really  _ asleep.  _ Catra could say with confidence after years of sleeping in her bed that there was no waking her up gently.  _ We’re fucked here. _

Sighing, Catra used her nail to click her phone’s screen and check the time, stumbling along a stray idea in the process brought to her by none other than her big hearted bestie, Scorpia (Scorpia decided to call herself that. Catra wouldn’t be caught dead saying the word bestie, disgusting). Catra could hear her putting her foot down throughout the empty apartment even in her absence. Past conversations echoed in her head of their arguments over school work or sleep or pet rats hiding in couch cushions hoping to snatch away some popcorn as Catra looked out into the living room.

_ “Fuck off, Scorpia, you’re not my mom.” _

_ “ _ Language, _ wild cat. And duh, I’m too young to anybody’s mom really.”  _

_ “I told you I have an exam tomorrow and if I don’t get a-” _

_ “A 79, you won’t keep your B. Yeah, we talked about this. But it's almost two in the morning! How are you gonna get a good grade on this test if you sleep through it? Tell me that.” _

_ “You don’t get it. You already have everything you wanted, I’m still working my ass off!” _

_ “Okay, you know what, I’m gonna look past that hurtful comment for the sake of this friendship. How bout one more hour of studying? And then, you can call it a night.” _

_ “And… you won’t bother me? For the whole hour? The  _ whole  _ hour, Scorpia?” _

_ “No bothering, I cross my heart. See? That way we compromise.” _

“Compromise, huh?” the corner of Catra’s mouth turned up. Could that be her way out of this extremely stupid problem? Using a classic Scorpia compromise she could shove her two options together to get one that didn’t get Catra’s ass kicked/dumped. “Okay, you know what, Adora?” A snore answered her. “I’m gonna let you asleep for another uh… twenty- no thirty minutes! You get thirty more minutes as the mayor of fucking snoozeville and then I’m waking you up so you can finish and I can make fun of the fact that you totally snore, you dork.”

_ There. How’s that for a compromise, Scorpia? _

Adora didn’t move, didn’t even budge an inch on her keyboard turned importu pillow as Catra minimized her window to set a timer for half an hour on her phone. The longest half hour of her damn life. “Dummy. Can’t believe you fell asleep talking to me. Am I that fucking boring, Adora?”

_ Can’t believe you left me just like that. _

When she turned back to her sketchbook, Catra was met with a beige page just as empty as she became sitting there surrounded the tiny yet infinite space of her uninhabited apartment. Didn’t matter that Adora was there in a way. Didn’t matter that Catra could fill the blank page with a universe of her own making. Loneliness was loneliness, just like empty space was empty space. And in the empty space, loneliness invited defeat to fill the void in Catra’s heart like the pain that coursed through her tired hands when she picked up her charcoal. 

_ So this is selflessness. It fucking sucks.  _ Catra blew hot air from her lips, tapping the charcoal against the paper. She still had nothing to draw, nothing to do for the next thirty minutes except for push shadows from her mind.

_ Oh but look at Adora’s face, sleeping so soundly. That is a type of peacefulness you will never be able to give her Catra, even someone lacking so lacking intelligence as you has to admit that. _

“Shut the  _ fuck _ up, Weaver.”

Right. Misery loves company. And when it couldn’t find company, it would make it, weave it right out the shadows. 

Shoulders collapsing and shaking with exhaustion, Catra grit her teeth, “I’m not doing this tonight, so go ahead and tell Hordak to fuck off on your way to the back.” 

_ God, I hope Adora doesn’t wake up right now and I have to explain that comment.  _ The thought of the person she cared the most finding out she talked to mental manifestations of long gone ghosts and then looking at her like she nothing but broken and crazy… wow, they were really going here weren’t they? With the seeds of abandonment issues Adora sewed at the age of eleven and the whole being too fucking much for anyone to love? Jesus, at this rate she wouldn’t survive the next, what was it, twenty seven minutes and eighteen seconds.

Well she had to survive it somehow. And survival? That was something Catra was really  _ fucking _ good at. Catra chose Adora’s face to anchor herself to survive that moment, and the twenty six infinite moments that followed after. Chose to focus on the way the light coming from her phone poured over her gentle expression, chose to study and learn the shapes and curves she’d long memorized. Her charcoal shook in her hand and she ran her tongue over her lips. An out from her daily dose of splitting was right the fuck in front of her, snoring like a suburban dad and drooling all over the lesbian stickers on her Mac Book.

Drawings of Adora- her face, her hands, her body- had littered every corner of Catra’s sketchbook since her job as She-Ra’s illustrator began three months ago, but they weren’t of  _ book  _ Adora and they sure as hell weren’t She-Ra, just the woman she found in front of her over and over again. Images burned in her brain: a smile like a sunrise, back muscles defined as if they were carved out of marble, chewed up fingernails and flaxen hair falling against shoulders in moments of quiet vulnerability. Adora didn’t know it, and Catra would take it to her god damn grave, but she’d been taking pictures of her on her phone when she wasn’t looking. It’s not like Catra was going to do anything disgusting with them, just use the photos as references in moments like this, so she kept her mouth shut. What Adora didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Plus if Adora knew she was taking the photos it’d flat out ruin the essence of them and if she knew why she was taking the photos, then she’d whine and pout and beg the crap out of Catra just to see them. But unless there was a gun to her head, like hell was Catra going to be opening her sketchbook for anybody, not even Adora. 

And yeah, the constant sketching of her girlfriend might’ve wandered into obsessive-possessive territory (a place Catra knew the likes of  _ very  _ well) the incident with Scorpia ignoring her boundaries-  _ again-  _ and discovering the drawings of Adora Catra drew when possessed by her pent up imagination or dreams that left her wishing she actually lived alone, but any artist could understand finding the one thing they would never get tired of drawing, painting, sculpting, etc. But Catra did pull back on drawing Adora back after Scorpia asked one too many gross, personal questions. She pulled back  _ a lot.  _ Everything she drew now was at the requests of her professors or Julien. Mostly Julien because he never let the fuck up with her “refining her design work and potential” or some other mentor bullshit. When freed up from their assignments, Catra passed what was left of her spare time portraying Loo-kee and the other cats from the mall. 

_ But Scorpia’s not around to ask you about drawing her now.  _ A more devilish part of her whispered and Catra couldn’t help but grin,  _ You need the inspiration, Jarageui, and she needs the sleep. And it’s just for the next twenty five minutes. Don’t make this weird.  _

“Fuck it.” Catra hissed. She switched the charcoal to her right hand and grabbed the pencil from under her leg, positioning it safely under her left thumb. Listening to the dull hum of the apartment’s shit A/C unit, Catra cocked her head and took in Adora’s sleeping expression. The movement that followed in her fingers was a practiced blur; the basic shapes, the soft lines followed by depth and definition, shading to create the flow of the light on her face.

“How is that it’s been thirteen fucking years and you still look exactly the same when you’re sleeping, babe?” Catra wasn’t sure whether she was asking the drawing or her girlfriend. She wasn’t sure it mattered. Not like she was gonna get an answer from either of them. 

God, Catra had told herself not to make it weird, but was it weird that staring at her like this brought her back to all those times wasted in the dry heat of Arizona, staring at Adora sleeping in their shared bed as the dead of night passed around them? Yep, it was pretty fucking weird. But the nostalgia of it all (gross, she knew) was seeping into the humid air around her and into the lines she drew. It was like no time at all had gone by since those nights whispering secrets and telling stories in the dark hoping they wouldn’t be caught, no time had gone by since Catra forced herself to stay awake the hours Adora let herself drift off, carrying out her duty to keep her safe, because she was her best friend’s protector. 

They didn’t start out sharing a bed in Weaver’s orphanage. At four years old, Catra was not about to crawl under the covers with anyone that wasn’t her mother and it was bad enough she’d gone from sharing a small, cozy basement with one familiar person, to sharing a cold, barren room with six other mean girls all the hunt for fresh meat. Weaver shoved her on the top bunk over a curious and intrusive Adora, told her to be grateful for what she’d been given or she’d sorely come to regret it, and thought nothing of leaving her most hated child to bond with her most treasured. 

_ What were we, like six years old when I started sleeping on the bottom bunk? Maybe seven? _

Catra didn’t think she’d ever forget that first night in Adora’s bed, because there sure as hell no forgetting what made her move down there. In her ringing ears she could still hear the creak of the door open, betraying Mrs. Weaver’s entrance despite her reputation for silence. Closing her eyes, she could still the sight she found when she dared to look over the rim despite every voice in her head screaming at her not too.

One minute the room had been nothing but navy blue darkness as Catra had lain staring up counting the cracks of the concrete ceiling, the next the harsh yellow light of the hallway leaked into the room chasing the comfortable void away and burning her long adjusted eyes. Hissing, she had thrown her blanket over her eyes and buried her face within the soft worn lining, hoping it would protect her from the outline of the shadow that had entered her space. 

_ What is Mrs. Weaver doing in here,  _ her memories rang solid with that thought just as it did with the fear that had seized her,  _ she  _ never  _ comes in here at night.  _

Her next realization was a clear as that night had been:  _ I’m in trouble. Again. But I didn’t do anything this time! Like that matters… no, don’t move! Just don’t move, that’s what Adora says to do. _

Swallowing a squeak, Catra curled her body into a tight ball and when the shadow dipped, letting the light pour in, she took her opportunity to fling her blanket over her body as a protective shield. That’s what Adora always said that blanket was when they played together. It was always a shield during hide-n-seek or soldiers, a game the other girl invented, or it was base during tag. Or it was the roof when they built forts in the living room on the afternoons Mrs. Weaver went to meet with Mr. Hordak and they would pretend to live in a much bigger, much nicer house with Whiskers as their  _ real _ cat. But in that moment on that hot Arizona night, Catra wished and wished the blanket to be a shield to keep her from the cold, unforgiving strike of her caretaker. She was extra careful not to make any movement beyond the death grip she had around her stuffed animal, careful not to even breathe as she waited the passing seconds for the blanket to be ripped off her and a bony hand to tear her from the mattress and from her safety to a world of never ending hurt.

But seconds dragged into minutes and the blanket was still enveloping her in a suffocating heat. Catra let out the breath she’d been holding. Had Mrs. Weaver bought it? Had she thought she was asleep? Wait, was she  _ not _ going to punish her? That was a first. Squirming under her the blue blanket, Catra dared to peak out, hit by the light still streaming into the room. Hold on, where was Mrs. Weaver? Did she leave the door open when she left?

No, that didn’t add up. A bunch of the other girls in the room were big sissies and afraid of the dark. As if there was anything to be afraid of that wasn’t outside the bedroom door. But when Lonnie had asked Mrs. Weaver for a nightlight or if she could crack the door, Mrs. Weaver ignored her. “Big girls can sleep without light.”

Then, just as she thought it was safe to let her guard do, Catra’s ear perked up to the sound of a shuffle somewhere beneath her. Her heart jumped against her rib cage and she retreated back into the false safety of her blanket. Somewhere below her, Mrs. Weaver was stalking about like an evil witch in the fairy tales Adora always read. Catra wasn’t out of the woods yet. She just had to stay still- ugh she  _ hated _ staying still- until Mrs. Weaver was gone and so was the light. She just had to be patient. Ugh, she hated being patient! Adora was the patient one, the  _ good  _ one, not her. 

_ Why is Mrs. Weaver in here?  _ Catra must’ve asked herself that a million times and one,  _ Is someone else in trouble? Oh, is it Lonnie? That’d be hilarious!  _

Looking back on that memory, on those frustrating feelings of confinement and impatience, it was definitely curiosity that got the best of her. Catra just couldn’t stand not knowing where her enemy would strike, where that shadow was lurking beneath her, what is was doing and what it was waiting for  _ her  _ to do. She inched out of her blanket, careful not to make a sound, careful not to even breathe, and peaked over the rim. But the room over which she looked was pretty much normal. Lonnie and Sara asleep in the bunk bed across from her and Adora’s, Sofia and Carmen in the bunk bed against Lonnie and Sara’s. Course those dumb dumbs were out and had no idea that Mrs. Weaver was in here, creeping around like a ghost in the night. 

Catra remembered deciding, that was it, she  _ had _ to see what was going on below her even if it killed her. First she just had to figure out how to do so without making herself her caretaker’s next target. Leaning over the rim and exposing her head was too risky of a move; even if Mrs. Weaver wasn’t in there to wait for Catra to do something wrong so the older woman could ease her boredom by punishing her, if she was caught she’d be in hot, hot water. Maybe literally, if Mrs. Weaver was feeling extra evil tonight. 

So instead, Catra rolled onto her belly and crawled -just like when they played Spies, another game Adora invented- to the tiny crack that existed between the edge her mattress and the wooden rim of the upper bunk bed. This pocket of space between her and her best friend was not a new discovery. She and Adora always whispered through it after lights out when Adora told her bedtime stories and Catra constantly interrupted her, trying to make her laugh and lose focus, sticking her little stubby fingers down the crevice to taunt and tease her. It had only been a couple of hours since they were giggling as quietly as possible, shushing each other and griping at each other before wishing each other good night. Now, instead of touching Adora’s outstretched fingers with her own, Catra watched her from the bottom bunk, hoping Weaver was casting a shadow upon her bed long enough for her to figure out what the hell she was doing sneaking around her one safe place. 

But there wasn’t a shadow there. There was something much scarier- and  _ stranger-  _ than a shadow.

_ What is Mrs. Weaver doing to Adora?  _ Catra almost let out a squeak that gave away her position when she saw that there caretaker wasn’t just abiding near the bottom bunk and her best friend, but was bent over her for some reason. Squinting, Catra watched as the yellow light cast a creepy aura over Mrs. Weaver, who was running her bony hand over Adora’s head and down her hair, her labored breathing the only sound. Shuddering, Catra watched Mrs. Weaver do it again. And again. And again. And again.  _ Ew, why is Mrs. Weaver petting Adora?!  _ Okay, yes, she knew that wasn’t the right word and Adora would correct her, saying the word was stroke, but pet felt… correct. What she was doing was so weird! And… possessive. She just kept repeating the movement over and over and over, dragging her hand  _ so  _ slow over Adora’s head and down her back. No, that was how you pet a cat, not touch another human being! There was no way normal parents snuck into their child’s bedrooms to pet them when they were sleeping. No way. 

Back in the supposed safety of her empty apartment, Catra tore herself away from the drawing. Hugging herself, she shuddered at the memory of watching Weaver smear her influence on Adora when she wasn’t even awake to consent. She guessed at least some part of her had always been a little bit aware of Weaver’s… preoccupation with Adora, fuck, it was what she spent so much time jealous of even if it was  _ messed  _ up; from the hired tutors, birthday presents (she may have only received one a year, but Adora was the only one who got a present for her birthday at all. Weaver made them all stand around and watch her open it and Catra would  _ never _ forget that), the way Weaver put Adora’s report cards on the fridge, the picture of her Catra discovered in Weaver’s desk draw while sneaking around her room on a dare and boy did Catra pay the most painful price for disrespecting her privacy… the incident that night when they were seven years old and Weaver stood above a sleeping Adora just staring, until staring turned to touching and touching turned into scarring- at least for Catra. To this day, Catra had no fucking clue whether Adora had idea whether any of that had happened. 

All Adora knew is that it didn’t happen again.

The charcoal weighed heavy in Catra’s hand as she remembered watching from the slit in the upper bunk Mrs. Weaver standing up, regarding her “miracle orphan” for a few more elongated seconds, then turning to the open door. Catra had slid away from the edge of her bed to the wall it backed, bringing her blanket to her with miniscule movements that dared not make any sound. Her wide eyes never left the blackened outline of the woman who took her in. What happened next shook Catra to her core; despite the gruesome acts of physical abuse and neglect Weaver left her on the other end, what she said as she walked out that door was still one of the most terrifying things that ever fucking happened to her under that roof.

_ “Go to sleep, Catra.” _

The door then closed, and the light was swallowed by the navy blue void around them. Catra curled up into a ball and forced down a sob, trying to concentrate on the sound of crickets echoing from outside their window and the loud humming of the water heater underneath them. It was louder that night.

Mrs. Weaver had known Catra was awake and watching her the  _ whole  _ time. How could she have known, Catra was- Catra had been so careful! She’d been  _ so  _ quiet.

But it didn’t matter did it? Weaver would always know that Catra was breaking rules, one way or another. And she’d never be safe in this house as long as that shadow of hers lurked around every bend and every corner. 

Catra didn’t sleep the rest of that night, haunted by the image of Mrs. Weaver’s skeleton hand on her best friend’s head. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t settle down before the water heater would groan and she be jerked out her light sleep, fearing that Mrs. Weaver had come back to watch Adora. Or doing something worse to Adora. After several failed attempts to close her eyes and keep them closed, Catra decided to give up. She rolled over onto her stomach, watchin the edge of Adora’s bed with tired and strained eyes until the sun rose and the awakening of the other girls pulled her away from her post. In school, Adora had to kick her several times to keep her from faceplanting on her desk in the middle of class. She also found Catra hiding from her and taking a nap in one of the bushes at recess. When they got home Catra found herself in a game of cat and mouse, trying to avoid their caretaker at every turn, squeaking and ducking into rooms when she saw shadows coming down the halls.

_ “Aren’t you going to come to dinner?”  _ Adora, hanging from the rim of the top bunk, asked after finding her there, hiding from Weaver like a cat with its tail between its legs. She knew she was being a coward. She knew she was weak for being afraid. She knew that if the other kids found out how scared she was, they’d pounce on her and never let her live this down. But she couldn’t face Mrs. Weaver that day. 

_ “‘M not hungry,”  _ muttered Catra into her crossed arms.

_ “Okay then… I’m not either.” _

_ “Huh?” _

The bed rocked as Adora climbed over with all the grace of the world’s worst ballerina and the next thing Catra knew her best friend was in front of her, her bright blue eyes shining like there was nothing in this big, frightening world that could lay a cruel hand on her. Boy, was she wrong. “ _ Since you don’t want to go to dinner, I’ll stay and hang out with you. We can play cats, or spies or- or- Spy Cats! It’s a new game I just made up!” _

_ “Why are you doing this Adora? I can hear your stomach is rumbling.” _

_ “‘Cause I wanna play with you, duh Catra! And Mrs. Weaver always lets me have leftovers if I ask nicely for them.”  _

_ Yeah, she would. Mrs. Weaver would do anything for Adora. As for the rest of them… As for Catra… _

By Adora’s side, Catra relaxed for the first time since Weaver opened their bedroom door. The Arizona sky faded a light pink to a dark blue in the blink of an eye, and before Catra knew it- or as far her memories knew it- Catra was standing next to Adora in the bathroom brushing her teeth, laughing at her attempt to make a mustache with toothpaste bubbles. But as with every slim moment of joy they managed to squeeze out of that hell, it was interrupted by Mrs. Weaver swinging open the bathroom door and yelling,

“ _ Girls! Cut this frivolity, you were due in bed ten minutes ago! It’s a school night. Go now, or they’ll be consequences.” _

_ “Yes- yes ma’am.” _

_ “Yes, Mrs. Weaver.” _

_ “Adora, darling, clean your lip. Ah-ah-ah, not with your sleeve. There you go, good girl. Now go.”  _ Adora handed the towel back to Mrs. Weaver with a curt thank you and good night, and Catra followed, a rebellious glare on her face. A look that said  _ I know what you did.  _ A look that would pour gasoline on the embers of their dynamic and dangle a match over it. 

Because that was the first night that Catra abandoned the top bunk, blue blanket in one hand and Whiskers in the other, for Adora’s bed. She waited, staring out the crack between her mattress and lumber, as Adora told her a bedtime story, wished her goodnight, and fell asleep. Then, careful to be quiet and sneaky, Catra climbed down the ladder and sat crossed legged in front of her best friend. There. There would be no more weird petting on her watch, and she didn’t care if she was gonna get in trouble for this type of open defiance. No one,  _ no one  _ was touching Adora like she was a thing instead of person while Catra was on guard. Catra forced her eyes to stay open-  _ don’t go to sleep, don’t go to sleep-  _ and watch the door, thinking about how Adora had stayed with her when she didn’t want to go to dinner. She was doing that for her now, so she better not fail and fall asleep. 

Catra fell asleep. What, she was seven years old!  _ And  _ had stayed up the whole night before. As an abused foster kid, her body would more than adjust to nights spent on the defensive, but this was the first time it had happened and eventually she couldn’t fight her exhaustion anymore. She awoke to a poke in the eyeball and an Adora grinning like a devil, hanging over her curled up position at the end of the bed. 

_ “What are you doing down here, Catra?”  _ she half whispered, half giggled. Caught in a yawn, Catra couldn’t answer before Adora was crooning and asking, “ _ Aw, are you scared?” _

_ “What? No- I’m not scared, Ms. Weaver- I- I’m not scared, Adora!” _

_ “Shh, it’s okay to be scared, Catra. Here, scoot over.”  _ Adora shushed her, pushing her with her shoulder as she slung her pillow to the end of the bed. It wasn’t exactly comfortable having both their bodies there on the end, and Catra made that point by grumbling a few times, but neither of them got up and moved. For a couple minutes they just stared at each other like they were playing a game of chicken. But Catra caved back into her exhaustion just around the time Adora fell back asleep against her shoulder. As the rising sun pierced through their window, Catra awoke to Adora’s leg over her chest and laughed as she realized her best friend slept with her face  _ in  _ the pillow. And totally drooled!

Adora didn’t say anything the next night when Catra fell asleep at the end of her bed on the patrol for Mrs. Weaver. She didn’t say anything the next night, or the night after that, or every night that followed until the day Mara knocked on their door having come to leave Catra to the emptiest and loneliest bed in the world. 

Mrs. Weaver on the other hand… she may have never come back to marvel at the wonders of a sleeping child in the style of most horror movie villains, but it wasn’t long before she discovered their creative little sleeping situation and had a freaking cow. A cow that locked Catra in closet for hours until Adora picked the lock on the door and freed her, a cow that took away her meals and refused to wash her clothes, a cow that assigned her the worst and most dangerous chores. That spiteful hag did everything in her power to separate them and make Catra go back to top bunk: verbal threats, belt lashings, soap in her mouth, Mrs. Weaver played every abusive card short of poisoning Catra with fumes of ammonia and chlorine, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what Weaver did to Catra as long as Catra had Adora, as long as Adora was safe from Mrs. Weaver and her shadow. Because in the face of all the neglect and abuse, young Catra found a type of purpose in protecting her best friend. And it made her feel strong, for the first time since she walked through the orphange’s door.

Catra sleeping at the foot of Adora’s bed was a dare to Mrs. Weaver.  _ If you want Adora, you go through me first. You’re not the only person who would do anything for her. _

“Weaver did go through me,” moaned Catra with the pencil gripped between her teeth, arching her back and stretching her arms. Fuck, did her scar ache like a bitch. Apparently thinking back on her childhood- or  _ lack  _ thereof- was not something her body was in the mood for, big fucking surprise. The pain from earlier had spread through the mangled branches of skin that traveled up and down her backside, hot and heavy pressing on her overworked nerves.  _ It’s not like I wanna remember that bitch either! It’s just… as a hazard that comes with dating Adora. _

Huffing, Catra clicked on her phone and looked at the timer. Nine minutes and fourteen seconds. “Huh, not bad for a full page,” she mumbled, craning her neck to stretch out the kink that had settled at the top of her spine. Surprised it didn’t take her longer to draw the face she knew better than her own. Whatever, she  _ was _ out of practice.  _ Thanks for nothing Scorpia. _

“Hey sleeping Adora,” smiled Catra as she looked down at the drawing. Her hands were covered in the graphite soot and charcoal, her fingers and knuckles aching in protest, but holy fuck was it worth it! This, her sketch of Adora, was better than any of the shit she’d turned in or any of the half-assed designs Julien spared praise for. “You’re one hell of a muse, you know that?”

_ Is this how Entrapta feels researching people she didn’t get permission from? _

Sighing with content as she flexed her fingers, Catra eyes blurred with dissociation, her mind preoccupied with pride for her work one moment and smacked upside itself with another onslaught of memories from her hellish childhood the next. Turns out that was a hazard of staring at Adora’s dozing face for what felt like  _ hours.  _ ‘Cause that’s how she spent all those restless back at Weaver’s orphanage; curled up at Adora’s feet- yeah, even when they weren’t playing Catra was practically a method actor when it came to imitating her favorite animal... it made her feel safe- waiting for sleep to come and hoping that Adora’s light would ward off any darkness, any nightmares, any shadows. Some nights Adora slept at the end of the bed or Catra slept beside her. Those far and in between nights were reserved for when Mrs. Weaver took inflicting pain to a physical level with Catra, leaving her body bruised and aching, her eyes tired from crying and her brain no longer comprehending, merely compartmentalizing. Whether Catra wanted her there or not, whether Catra wanted to be touched or not, Adora would stay beside her in the aftermath of those moments that no longer existed in Catra’s consciousness as nothing but a series of echoing screams and discord.

A striking pain flooded her back and Catra winced, bracing herself against the familiar burn. Her body seemed to be leading her through her memories instead of the other way around, a fucking fantastic turn of events, straight back into time where eleven year old Catra moved up to Adora’s side with no intention of going back after coming home with a back full of staples and synthetic skin because Mrs. Weaver shoved her into a stream of scalding water and burned her straight through the muscle on her back. Years had flown by, but her body remembered. It  _ always  _ did. She still could still feel the scratchy cotton of Adora’s pajamas grating against her cheek as she sobbed into her shoulder, the pain of her new skin’s infection rendering her speechless and unable to do anything but lie limp and unresponsive. Adora held her night after night through the multiple infections that returned each time with a vengeance. Turns out, if you didn’t keep taking your antibiotics post surgery infection was not only possible and painful as all fucking get outs, but if you didn’t keep taking them  _ after  _ you got an infection… if someone withheld them from you because they were furious to be under fire from both the state and their crime syndicate boss and needed an easy young and injured target to take it out on...

_ I can’t believe there was actually a moment where I forgave that woman- no, no! I’m not thinking about her!  _ Catra wiped a stray tear from her eyes, her unforgiving nails scraping the skin below her eye as she swallowed and angry growl,  _ Fuck her, this was supposed to be about Adora! Not Weaver. Just think about Adora… yeah, Adora. Adora, who was dumb enough to fall asleep on her fucking laptop of all things and is about to be in for a huge fucking surprise. I can’t believe I’m dating her. I’m so fucking lucky. _

Catra sucked in a deep, forceful breath and turned to her phone.  _ 3:01,  _ the timer read. Her eyes flickered to the minimized screen on the bottom corner of her phone, a shaky scoff escaping her lips. Yep, Adora was still sleeping, by the looks of all the slobber hanging off her chin. Dark blonde eyelashes fluttered for a moment and Catra’s heart stopped. Was she waking up? Was Catra off the damn hook of being the one to wrestle for her well deserved rest? But instead of her ocean eyes opening, they stayed shut and Adora gave another horse-like snore.  _ Hmmmm, that’s a no. She’s pretty cute though. Maybe I shouldn’t wake her up and just keep drawing her until the sun comes up. Keep staring at her like the old days.  _ Curling her knees against her chest, Catra threw that idea out of her head just to save her ass- and this relationship- but did decide to hang on to that staring thing for the next two minutes and thirty seven seconds. 

Was it creepy as hell to stare this long? Was it sickeningly vulnerable to show this amount of unbridled affection? Was Catra going to do it anyways? Fuck yeah, she was. 

‘Cause it’s not like this was a view she’d robbed herself of this before. All those nights she’d watch the sun rise over her pretty perfect face, not black and blue like Catra’s, throttled by a treasure trove of emotions Catra was probably too young to be experiencing for another human being. Wonder, that first night in her bed. Raging jealousy that turned her her blue and yellow eyes an ugly shade of green, those years spent in both in her bed and her shadow. Young, fleeting love, the meaning of which evaded her and left her confused as the other girl held her as she cried until the early hours of the morning and abandoned her to that cold, uncomfortable bed when the sun rose. 

And now here Catra was again, because irony was the biggest, most cowardly bitch and even it couldn’t deny her the gentle sight of Adora snoring the final ten seconds away. In her heart, a tiny flame of the next emotion that threatened to take her like a fucking wild fire. But Catra sure as hell was not going to allow herself to speak that emotion’s name let alone think about it when she was still pulling knives out of her back thrown there by that backstabbing bitch of an emotion itself. They’d cross that very shifty and unstable bridge when they got there.

_ If  _ they got there.

_ BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Tap. _

Just as Catra was pulling her fingernail off her screen, she watched out of the corner of her eye Adora’s fly wide open and her head bolt up, awakened by the loud noise of the timer going off.  _ Guess that saves me from screaming at her. Whoop-de-doo. I could for some screaming after having Weaver back and fucking with my head. _ Adora whipped her head around as if she was confused as to how she got there, an expression of panic blasted across her illuminated face, before panic turned to realization and she laid her head in her hands, too shocked to speak.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” chidded Catra, unable to hold back the shit eating grin on her face. This was one hundred percent revenge for Adora’s little stunt earlier that had bruised her ass. And boy, did it feel pretty fucking good. 

“It’s not morning, is it?” Adora, head jerking up, gasped.

“Relax, Princess, you still got plenty of time before you have to get up and do your morning kinesthetics or whatever.” 

Shoulders collapsing in relief, Adora rolled her eyes, “It’s just a run, Catra. But seriously, how long have I been asleep?”

“I dunno, an hour? Maybe an hour and a half? I gave you thirty minutes of that before I woke you up, by the way. You’re welcome.” She stuck emphasis on the last two words. Adora grumbled something in response, but it missed Catra’s ears completely. Her eyes had fallen back to the sketch of her previously sleeping girlfriend and she found herself stuck in a bubble of contemplation. Part of Catra wondered if she should show Adora her portrait- it would both mock her and earn Catra some of that sweet, sweet validation because Adora just could not resist her art for some reason- the other part of her, the part that was all teeth and shattered bones, shoved that idea into a dark corner where it would never see the light of vulnerability. 

_ Yeah, if I show her, she’ll start asking questions like she always fucking does like “why were you drawing me?” or “what made you think that was okay and not super creepy and gross?”  _ And Catra had had enough retribution, through her own damn memories of all things, for one night. Plus, Adora was not the only one of the two of them who was exhausted as shit, so yeah. No point in getting real when Adora was borderline loopy and Catra’s five hour energy was wearing off,  _ fast.  _

Catra tore her eyes away from the drawing before she did something stupid. Somehow, these days, she always on the verge of doing stupid shit. Adora just brought that out in her. “What are you gonna do now? Keep working?”  _ Please don’t say keep working,  _ please  _ don’t say keep working, ‘cause I promised you I would stay up with you but holy  _ fuck _ I’m way more tired than I thought I was and I’m probably gonna dream about Weaver so let’s just go ahead and get  _ that _ over with.  _

“Um,” Adora pursed her lips and wiped her chin, making a face as she pulled away a string of spit, “I don’t really know. I got through most of it before I, you know, fell asleep.” Catra snorted. “And I could keep working but I think Bow’s potatoes are putting me in a coma and honestly, I could probably get this done tomorrow if the bakery is slow.”

“So, you’re going to sleep.”

“Yep.”

_ Fuck yes!  _ A sigh rocked Catra’s body and she tipped her head back, letting relief flow through her tired veins. Time to pass the fuck out in this nest of art supplies and paper and empty mac’n’cheese teacups until her roommates came home and Entrapta got ballsy enough to spritz her with a water bottle and Scorpia turned HGTV way too damn loud and she threw things at both of them. “Guess that means I should probably let you go then,” Catra yawned. 

“Yeah, I guess you should.” Adora yawned back, unable to resist the urge, “Thanks for staying up with me Catra.”

Her smile was like an arrow striking Catra’s heart and she forced herself to swallow, her stiletto nails digging into her calves.  _ We’re a thing now, gross, you don’t have to melt into a pile of goo every fucking time she’s nice to you.  _ Was it always going to be this way? Was Adora going to always have this effect on her? And why was Catra so okay with the possibility that she might never get used to it? Once again, her split eyes fell to the still open sketch book before her and lingered for one final minute on the moment Catra had captured and preserved in lines of gray and black forever. Her heart pounded against her rib cage at the thought of maybe showing it to Adora one day, when she was ready to vulnerable with the only person she  _ wanted  _ to be vulnerable with. One day when Catra wasn’t gazing at a sleeping Adora through a cracked screen, but from across a bed that they shared in a place that was their own.

One day,  _ if. _

“What are you smiling at?” Adora’s teasing words broke Catra away from her wandering, idiotic mind, and she snapped her head up.

“None of you business, Princess.” She winked.  _ The fact that a future with you scares the ever living shit out of me and somehow not at all.  _ With a flick of her wrist, Catra closed the sketchbook. “Good night, Adora.”

A pause, then a smile. “Good night, Catra.”

_ End call. Call time three hours, twenty one minutes. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...... what did you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> thank you to Charlie for beta'ing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3
> 
> I hope you were paying attention to some of those details (like hmm, what was Catra talking about when she says she forgave Mrs. Weaver for a minute? She never said that in upper west side?) because they will be VERY important in the sequel that is definitely happening (as of right now)
> 
> a couple days ago on my tumblr i teased the idea of a little easter egg hunt where I post hints for the sequel but just with brooklyn 99 screencaps.  
[here's your first one](https://images.app.goo.gl/uiCWA748zvcqr8eo8)
> 
> as always, [ I'm on tumblr](https://princessofgayskull.tumblr.com/post/188548495080)
> 
> coming up, summer is ending and to celebrate, Mermista and Sea Hawk are throwing a pool party and EVERYONE is invited. Too bad some cats don't like water.
> 
> (while we wait for that I'm also totally gonna make a What Would Scorpia Do bracelet)


	3. afterglow (blew things out of proportion now you're blue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mermista throws her annual pool party at the end of the summer, Adora sees an opportunity to further bring Catra into her life. But in the light of her glittering lives of her rich and beautiful friends, Adora unwillingly outs some Catra’s deepest insecurities, exposing a crack in their relationship. And when she pressures a sensitive spot within those insecurities, what started as a rift becomes a crack. 
> 
> If Catra and Adora can’t put their pride aside, they’ll lose everything they’ve built together. And if they can’t stop listening to the opinions of everyone else, then they’ll never be able to listen to each other. Can they meet beyond this conflict and come together in the afterglow?
> 
> A fight and makeup fic in three parts.
> 
> part 1: blew things out of your proportion now you're blue
> 
> “Catra, I don’t understand, I thought you wanted to hang out with Bow and Glimmer.”
> 
> “I wanted them to stop treating me like I’m the scum of the earth! Not get roped into going to some mansion so they can all see me drown!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you’ve probably wondering where I’ve been and all! Well, long story short, this next story you’re about to read is long. Once wrapped up, the whole of the project will have taken me just over three months. (Also, I was supposed to start this in November, not December, but then s4 dropped and I ended writing a companion piece for that that also took me a month) But the reason I did that was because there’s a lot I’m about to lay out to you in this story and I couldn’t make you wait a month and half for the next part. (You’ll understand why, and hopefully it will make you hate me less.) My updating schedule is… barely a schedule, and I didn’t want to string you along.
> 
> The next three chapters I’m about to give you are all a part of the same story within this universe. Although when this was first published I was set to update weekly, I have decided instead to finish part 3 and put both part 2 and 3 up a few days apart. 
> 
> Even though it is all written (or pretty much there) I would still very much (VERY VERY MUCH) like to hear your thoughts on each chapter. You have no idea how much it helps me sit down everyday and work on these stories.
> 
> This IS a fight fic, I’ll come out and say it. They fight and they’re mean and they have mean thoughts about each other (not just Adora and Catra, but almost all of them) but I want you to all know that I love all these characters and don’t actually think these things of them. Also, I want you to know that this does end well, and there’s so much of it that will be important moving forward (cough, cough, the sequel) The payoff will be worth it.
> 
> TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS*: needles, self harm (mentions and discussions, not actual acts), self harm scars, blood (not from self harm injuries) past child abuse, past emotional abuse, past psychological abuse, mental illness
> 
> *These topics are mentioned and discussed, but the whole of the story does not revolve around them. However, please take care of yourself mentally and physically.
> 
> I love you all, and hope I don’t make you all too mad ;)

_ Knock, knock, knock. _

“Can someone please get that?”

“Sorry Adora, I’m _ just _ about to beat this level in Battlefront II- take _ that _Kylo Ren, you pansy ass excuse for a Skywalker-”

_ Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock. _

“Bow?”

“Busy doing something! Grad school stops for no one!”

_ Knockknockknockknock- _

Exasperated sigh- a common side effect these days of having been trapped with her two roommates both home all weekend and both so self involved with... different interests, yeah that was an appropriate phrase for it- fogging her bathroom mirror, Adora raised her head, pulled her gaze away from the sink and tried one more time, this rendition of her request equal parts sweet and strained. “Please?”

“Adora, for the last time, I am _ knee _deep in a pile of research articles all concerning the experimentation of attachment theory-”

“Fuck you, _ Ben! _”

“-and it is very stressful because all of my summaries are due at _ midnight tomorrow _and I am only four articles-”

_ POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND! _

“Haha! Bet you didn’t see that powerup coming through!”

_ POUND! POUND! POUND! _

“-in! I would appreciate no more interruptions-”

“Will someone open the goddamn door before I kick the motherfucking thing down?” Adora’s girlfriend’s aggravated tone echoed through the door and far enough into the apartment for it to float beyond the other woman’s open bathroom door. In the heat of her frustration, Adora’s lithe patience failed her, her shoulders falling. There was a part of her that was not ready to do this.

_ Well at least we all know Catra’s here. _

Under _ any _ other circumstances, yes, Adora would be more than ecstatic to have her lovely if not hot headed girlfriend over and to spend time with her. Adora would drop everything the second she was asked and run straight into pouring rain for Catra. Otherwise, what other forces would press her to be standing on the cold tile of her bathroom washing leftover shaving cream off her forearm- now newly shaved and turning a fresh shade of scarlet in the scalding stream of water coming from her sink- ready to slather herself in several coats of petroleum jelly all for an hour of needle endowing her skin with fake ink? _ The only person I’d ever shave my _ arms _ for, for Pete’s sake, is Catra. _

A necessary step in the tattooing process, skimming the downy baby hairs from her skin with a Venus razor was a job carried out by Adora’s hand, not one handled by the needle happy prodigy herself. The reason for this stayed with Adora as fresh as the heat in her skin as she pulled it away from the steaming stream of water coming from her sink. She and Catra had learned through the most difficult and most painful way (because whatever forces orchestrated the universe could never spare them an inch of kindness, it always seemed) that Catra’s shaking hands hovering a sharpened blade over Adora’s bare skin triggered a teary flashback induced meltdown, an uglier one of hers that exposed the broken foundation beneath composed layers as she begged Adora, her voice breaking- “please don’t leave me, I know that I’m fucked up but, _ please, _ please don’t leave _ ”- _ as if her words though too were just as scared as her body was. That day Bright Moon experienced one of its rare summer thunderstorms. That day Catra shattered, the lines of her brokenness imitating the exact way Adora shattered for her that one night in the vulnerable shadows of the bakery. Leaving her like that state of anger poisoned by sadness and regret and never-ending essence of self hatred was never an option Adora even thought of. So instead, she held Catra close through her rollercoaster of a trigger, swallowing her own tears, self doubts, and words that sounded too much like apologies, and then she threw the damned instrument of infliction away in the trash can by Scorpia’s bed.

_ “I just don’t get it,” _ Catra had sniffled into Adora’s shoulder as they lay on the couch watching reruns of Bob’s Burgers as they waited for the storm to pass, Adora playing with the soft ends of her curls, _ “It never bothers me. Fuck, I do it all the time so I can practice on myself. So...why couldn’t I do it with you?” _

Adora, being the princess of having it altogether on paper yet never having the right words in her mouth, found herself at a loss for an answer that was both satisfying and validating. Rubbing her arm and placing her chin on Catra’s head, she wove all ten fingers through Catra’s, pulling her arms closer and hummed, “_ This isn’t the setback you think it is, Catra. You told me you prep clients all the time. And don’t worry about me or us. I’ll just do it myself ahead of time.” _

Adora agreed to do the heavy lifting of preparing her skin each time Catra wanted to fine tune her tattooing skills, because Adora really would do anything for Catra. If shaving an unconventional part of her body- or any part of her body really- meant Catra was spared even one reminder of the horrid and hellish ways she had mutilated herself in the loneliest and emptiest of her lonely and empty moments her conscious clung to only out of a stubborn spite to keep her locked in that particularly cruel brand of pain, then Adora would steal one Glimmer’s nicer razors (What? Years of a ruling her budget with the iron fist of foster kid turned working class and her limited need to attend to her underarms thanks to the whiter of her white woman attributes meant MegaMart brand suited her just _ fine _\- but Catra couldn’t tattoo an area Adora slapped a bunch of unicorn bandaids over) from her shower without thinking. If subjecting herself to the dull sting and burn of needle piercing every pore over and over and over while Catra’s gloved grip pinched her already raw arm as she lost herself in all the glory of her concentration so that she could continue taking steps in the direction of her childhood dream- the same one Adora all but pushed her out of an Uber toward- then Adora would sit down in throw her bare skin out and put her ass in the chair without blinking. 

Under _ any _other circumstances, yes, Adora would be more than ecstatic to have her lovely if not hot headed girlfriend over and to spend time with her, to be her walking “pale as fuck”- Catra’s words, of course- canvas, to be the person in the blink of an eye for who would do anything for her. 

Except... her roommates were home this time around. 

_ Of all the weekends the dumb bakery is being fumagated, _ Adora bit her lip with enough force to break already broken skin as she twisted the faucet off, grabbing a towel from the rack to dry her arm while she dragged her feet out to the living room, _ of all weekends to have Glimmer pulled away from work and Bow without a place to write his dumb papers! _

“I’m coming, I’m coming” Adora started with another sigh just as she entered the foyer only to realize Catra’s pounding had stopped some point between kicking the bathroom door closed and running half way down the staircase, her girlfriend’s relentless and the kind of on purpose annoying that was so on brand for her to be let in having been interrupted by Bow and his twitching eyebrows swinging open the front door. 

“Oh look, Catra’s here.” the would be psychologist let out a deadpan and Catra, a wicked and so alluring it’s unfair smile on her face, leaned her hip against the frame of the door, twirling a frizzy curl for good measure. Adora rolled her eyes so far back in her head her optic nerve came close to snapping. Yet pain was always good for something, a lesson imparted to her in the deep sweat of nightmares, whispered to her in memories where she held Mara’s ice cold hand and sat on the other end of her last words. And _ this _ pain, this unrelenting pressure on the back of her skull, this was good pain from distracting her from the heat currently pooling so deep in her stomach she could practically swim in her arousal and the scarlet blush spreading on her “pale as fuck” skin. Because _ c’mon. _ Who gave Catra the right to flaunt her attractiveness like it was a weapon blazed in the fire for the sole purpose of driving Adora absolutely insane? And why- _ why _\- did she insist on wielding it in one place where they were granted no chance of quiet or privacy?

“Hey Rainbow.”

Adora sank her teeth into her lip. _ Six months of having her back in your life and you still can’t handle her putting the word “hey” in front of everyone else’s name. Seriously, Adora, can’t you keep your jealousy in your pants? _

“Ha ha,” Bow’s laugh was the most forced thing Adora’s heard since Molly told her she never minded when they came to see Loo-kee and the rest of their found family of rescued cats. (Wow. They really were lesbians.) “May I ask what brings you to the apartment in the middle of dead week?” the polite strain in his voice almost snapped as Adora blew hot air from her nose from where she stopped in her tracks on the middle of the staircase, her hands- and towel- resting on her hips.

Adora should’ve known Catra was about to pull something. Because to Catra, Bow and Glimmer were juicy little mice she couldn’t ever resist taunting and one of those mice oh-so-ignorantly opened the door. A glitter of silver caught the sunlight, and Adora saw the trap Bow walked into a second too late. “Practice,” Catra, signature shit eating grin plastered across her face, flashed the barred needle tip as if it was a knife and Bow’s pervasive needle phobia- or trypanophobia as the academic in him often corrected- never stood a chance on her ground. A resounding _ thump _ rang throughout the apartment as all the blood drained from his body and Bow hit the floor.

“Did you have to do that, babe?” Adora asked, hands still planted on her hips.

Sticking the needle tip back into the black case that hung at her side, Catra responded, laying on the endearment layers thick with a snort and a squeak “Aw, I can’t have a little fun with you roommates, Princess?”

“Bow!”

Throwing off her gaming headset, Glimmer didn’t even bother to pause the simulated mid-battle with the fictional bane of her existence in her charge to go to her best friend. “Catra! He’s got a thing about needles and- and well, _ all _sharp things really!”

"Really?” Catra asked in a dry tone, flexing her flawless stiletto nails “I had no idea.” This time Adora’s optic nerve really did almost snap. Oh, so while she could be all hot and unbothered by the chaos that she set off like TNT (complain about her character in She Ra all she wanted, there was some part of Catra that was without a doubt feline in nature, hence her inability to resist knocking over people as if they were objects on a counter) Adora had to stand there wrestling the dual urges of throwing her girlfriend out of the apartment for being a rascal and throwing her up against the wall just to get a taste of the defiance that lived on her tongue. 

_ I can’t exactly make out with her with Bow unconscious on our floor. _ Right as a hint of logic wormed its way into her addled brain, snuffing out any remaining arousal as if her guilt could suck the oxygen out of a flame, sounds of Glimmer groaning trying to get Bow off the carpet caught Adora off guard. _ Maybe later. _

“Here, Glimmer, let me help you-” Adora started as she hopped down the remaining for steps, ponytail bouncing off the back of her neck when her toes grabbed carpet. 

But Glimmer, one of Bow’s arms already slung over her shoulder, shut down any habitual benevolence that could come out of Adora’s mouth before it even formed on her tongue “No- no, no. I don’t need your help. I can take care of Bow by myself.”

“Mommy?” a half conscious Bow drooled on Glimmer’s shoulder. This had Adora raising an eyebrow; for someone raised as far away as possible from the very concept of heteronormativity by two present and loving fathers, Bow asking for a non-existent mother (Unless he was calling _Glimmer _his mommy? That was concerning for an entirely _different_ set of reasons) could only be a sign he gave himself a concussion worth writing home about when he Drag Race style Death Dropped to the ground.

“Ha! Classic!” chidded Catra. Okay, yeah, she was having way too much fun. Adora either had to find a way to shut her down- using legitimate compassion! She wasn’t about to crumble back to the Adora-Knows-Best character she’d been with Catra when the universe put her in Marshmallow’s backseat- or Catra was going to find another creative, yet somehow cruel way to make someone else pass out. And by the way her split gaze targeted Adora’s other roommate with a smoking scorn, the authoress could gamble on Glimmer being her girlfriend’s next target.

_ What is her _ deal _ today? _ Adora wondered as she approached Bow and Glimmer despite her warnings not to, _ she hasn’t been this antagonistic since that night at the mall. Is it me? Did I do something wrong. Oh God, I probably did something wrong. _

That needling anxiety would have to wait. With Glimmer started a slow drag, the full eleven inches Bow had on her weighing her small yet determined frame down, Adora would have to meet Catra beyond this casualty. 

“Glimmer, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You- you can’t carry him all the way up the stairs by- by yourself.” Fearing for any possible head injuries that would only be exacerbated by colliding with each and every mahogany step (and it’s not like they could run Bow down to the nearest Urgent Care so he could, what? See their array of hypodermic needles and faint for a second time in one day?) Adora resorted to throwing out negotiating altogether and just go for pleading with Glimmer not to drag him up the stairs in all her 4 '9 strength. 

Of course her case wasn’t helped by Catra cackling, throwing her head back on the door frame like some insanely sexy villainess, at this exact image.

A small growl escaping her throat, Glimmer shook her head, “I _ got _it, Adora. This is not the first time I’ve had to carry someone who’s unconscious.”

“Jesus _ Christ, _are you serious, Sparkles?”

“She tried to go to med school before she switched to culinary science. Bow tried to be supportive.”

“Hy_ sterical _.”

“I can do it! Just take care of _ her _.” Glimmer continued her instructions and with a pointed glare in Catra’s direction, hoisted Bow up with a determined “oomph!” and began her ascent upwards to Bow’s room on the second level of the apartment. Mouth agape, Adora watched as Bow mumbled protests of pain while Glimmer groaned in her own right, resolute on making one trip with absolutely no breaks and absolutely no chance of giving Catra another embarrassing image to snicker at. By some miracle Bow’s body wormed over the last step without the trickle of any body fluids down the steps. 

“Wow,” Catra clicked her tongue, slamming the door shut behind her with a flick of her wrist once Glimmer shoved Bow’s body into his bedroom and they were both out of sight, “She always that bitchy?”

“You made Bow _ faint, _Catra. I think Glimmer has a right to be upset.” Adora responded.

“Whatever,” kicking her boots off by the welcome mat and shirking off her leather jacket, Catra whispered under her breath, “maybe if they weren’t so fucking pissed at me for showing up here…”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. You ready to start?”

This obvious deflection threw Adora straight into the left field it came out of. Her guard up, her gaze down, Catra was keeping herself a closed book for a reason her partner couldn’t for the life of her determine, even as she tried to mentally retrace the steps that led to this particular moody path. Okay so, Catra had knocked on the door, Adora asked her roommates to open it as she was busy prepping and soaked in bubbly soap. Both she and Catra were brushed off then, ignored in favor of topics deemed of higher importance. _Ignored..._ _and rejected. Oh…_ The answer rang in her head as if such a revelation had won her a prize on some game show held on the set of her psyche. Months of concocting, writing, and editing with furious abandon a fictionalized version of Catra left Adora with the barest of maps of her in her mind, the skeleton on the language the other woman spoke, but in this instance these foundations were somehow sufficient enough to clue her in. _That’s why Catra acted out. Bow was obviously upset with her for making him leave his work and it… it actually hurt her? That doesn't add up, since when does she let _Bow _of all people get under her skin?_

"Hey? Adora?" Catra snapped her fingers, the click of her stiletto nails echoing amongst Adora's mess of thoughts.

Blanching when she realized she’d been standing there having given no solid answer, she stuttered and shook her head, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I shaved my forearm- you wanted to do my forearm right? But I didn’t have time to put any lotion on because of… um...” _ what happened at the door. _

Catra’s bag hit the marble island with a loud bang and Adora flinched. “We’ll just use mine.” there was a hint of exhaustion in Catra’s voice, camouflaged by the tone of casual bitterness she had long perfected, but to Adora- who had long memorized her- it was as obvious as wrong note in song she knew by heart. 

_ Well, I am about to spend the next couple of hours with her. _ Adora chewed on her lip. Did she dare play detective? Or worse: armchair therapist? _ Maybe, she'll tell me organically? Oh yeah Adora. When hell freezes over, Catra will willingly tell you something that's bothering her. _

Adora blinked. She was stranded in the kitchen with her fuming girlfriend and no way to put out the smoke. _ And _said fuming girlfriend was about to take a sharp object and poke her continuously for an elongated stretch of time in which her anger could circulate and multiply. Although Adora was faithful to the notion Catra would never hurt her out of purposeful malice, she couldn't exactly testify to whether or not she was about to become the world's squishiest, most ticklish Voodoo Doll. 

Yet as she stood there watching Catra channel all her focus into taking all her tools of trade from the travel bag Julien lent her for her apprenticeship, Adora managed to scramble up the beginnings of a plan. Each little piece of her tattoo machine lay sparkling in the kitchen light, waiting patiently to be connected to the whole as Catra assembled it with a practiced mastery. And each little piece of Catra was screwed tight, superglued in some places and rusted over in others, but Adora suspected if she started small she might get a screw or two out by the end of this session and might not end up with ten tiny v-shaped bruises in her wrist.

When the machine lay finished, Catra swung her curls and plugged it in, turning her attention to setting up the ink caps. Pure awe snuck it Adora’s heart, threatening to eclipse her previous concerns and critiques about how things went down with her roommates, and any plans to remove her feelings with surgical precision. _ Hold your ground, Adora _a voice that sounded just a little bit too much like Mara’s pressed, but still she could feel her grip dangerously slipping. It’s just… Catra so seldom let her into her world! And almost never like this! Yes they were dating and yes, Adora could pull affection from Catra with almost little to resistance, but vulnerability? She’d probably have an easier time pulling her girlfriend’s teeth. Getting to watch her create was a rare privilege; as much as never held back marveling the end result, seeing her colorful and evocative process in the works always painted Adora with a golden type of joy. 

And did it have to be a crime to watch her and adore her? To be proud of her? Of all the people- and Adora knew there was a certain self proclaimed hug champion who’d kill for her spot- Catra could practice her burgeoning skills on, she chose Adora. She _ trusted _Adora despite the flight risk she was.

To an extent.

A tube of lotion flew across the kitchen, landing flat on the counter where Adora sat on one of Bow and Sea Hawk’s handmade stools, throwing her from her thoughts. _ Okay, I have to fix this. She’s about to put a needle in me, I can’t have her this pissed. _

“I didn’t” Adora coughed, grabbing the lotion and squeezing a gigantic dollop onto her palm out of panic, “I didn’t know Glimmer and Bow were going to be here.” _ Crap, this is so much lotion! _“The bakery- the bakery is being fumigated this weekend and Glimmer was supposed to be helping Spinerella and Netossa with a wedding, but she got the date wrong because no matter how many times I tell her she won’t get a planner! They cost like four dollars at the drugstore!” This earned Adora a scathing look that could've cut her deeper than any needle Catra was about to wield. “And Bow- Bow told me he was gonna go home for a couple days-”

“And he what? Doesn’t have a planner either?” asked Catra as she set the ink caps, dripping with vibrant color, down on the marble counter. As she spread her legs out after jumping onto one of the stools, the familiar sting of a blush burnt Adora's neck. Gone was the intense and caustic animosity from earlier. In its place, there was a tiny- if not almost nonexistent- ounce of amusement in Catra's voice. But it was enough for Adora to catch it. Shoulders relaxing, she let out a chuckle and rubbing in the rest of lotion no longer burned under anxious friction. 

“No, he uh, he uses his iPad for stuff like that.”

“Hmm. Jesus, babe, how much of that did you put on?”

“I dunno, it came out so fast!” protested Adora, choking on the smell of Lush vanilla as she spoke.

Pulling her sketchbook from across the counter, Catra giggled under her breath and gestured for Adora to extend her now thoroughly lotioned arm. “Title of your sex tape.”

“Did you- did you just make a Brooklyn 99 joke? Catra? Catra, are you watching Brooklyn 99-”

“_ Calm _down you dork,” Catra rolled her split eyes to cut her off, taking out a thin line sharpie from her jean pocket and opening the cap with her teeth. Her arm shaking in Catra’s grip, Adora swallowed. “Look, I dunno how or whatever, but ‘Trapta got Hulu on our shit TV. Or someone else’s hulu- probably Marshmallow’s, I wasn’t listening. I made Scorpia binge the first two seasons because you talk about it so damn much.”

“Oh my _ God- _”

“No, no squealing!” Catra’s nails dug into Adora’s skin and she bit back an excited yelp, “We don’t wanna wake up Rainbow, babe. I’ve had enough of Sparkles griping at me for an afternoon. God, you’re such a Santiago.” 

Adora sunk back into the stool slowly. “It’s so hard not to kiss you right now.”

“Keep it in your pants, Reign. Can’t have your Mom and Dad busting us with your hands on my tits and fucking grounding you.” her words dripped with the sourness from and it sunk into Adora’s skin just as cool sharpie met her arm. Dwelling on the suggestive image of her hands exploring Catra’s body was denied to Adora just like that. _ Okay, that’s _ two _ comments about Bow and Glimmer… So I guess we’re not gonna spend the next two hours talking about Brooklyn 99 instead. Dang it. _

By the time Catra’s hands had finished sketching out her design for that day- “Aw, it’s our son. I mean, that is Loo-kee right?” “Fuck! Sit still, Adora!” “Sorry, sorry!”- Adora had recycled a million thoughts over and yet, had not managed to settle on one to say, one to start this conversation with. Which screw to start unscrewing? _ (Title of your sextape- focus, Adora!) _ What was the right thing to say? Nothing _ felt _ right, no prepared statements lay comfortable on her tongue. Each question, each lead was contaminated by the risk that Catra would take this as an attack. To make matters slightly more complicated, Adora couldn’t figure out what exactly about the Door Incident was pinching a nerve. It’s not like she had ever seen Catra lash her tongue in Bow’s direction in any way that wasn’t a joke, and yeah, she and Glimmer butted heads from time to time, but those interactions Adora never chalked up to much because the three of them barely spent any time together! But suddenly Catra couldn’t resist the urge to hit where it hurt, flashing something shiny and pointy in Bow’s direction and then doubling down on her own aggravation when Glimmer got defensive. Or “bitchy” as Catra dubbed it.

“Are you ready?” asked Catra in a low voice. Her hands, now gloved, switched on the machine. Latex met bare skin as Catra took Adora's hand in her own. Ocean eyes met split ones. 

“Yeah.”

Something about the quiet fluttering of the machine, the purring of the barred needle, always sent Adora to a strange and unfamiliar place. She supposed, after hours staring at the impermanent work of Catra’s first time using her as a human canvas- She Ra’s emblem, all black ink and solid lines, lay at the base of Adora’s wrist following that first night under the needle, that this response was a result of having braced for hours in anticipation for a striking and venomous pain, of thorough google searches on how to cope with getting a tattoo, only for the first stick to shock her system into a dislocated place of dissociation.

Of course, there was a distinct and unique burn under the needle that even from the furthest and farthest mental place Adora still registered. At the beginning, it always stung as if Catra used her claw like nails to pull back a rubber band right to its breaking point, and then let all hell break loose, over and over and over. At the end, when Catra wiped the mixture of cold sweat, blood, and fake ink one more time and wrapped her finished work in foam like bandage, Adora skin tingled with a raw numbness that had her grateful her girlfriend carried aspirin in her travel bag. During the process, Adora told Catra it was like having a sunburn applied to her at a snail’s pace that at some point, her brain stopped remembering the pain it was supposed to be registering. The same way skin in the bright heat of the sun felt yet paid no mind to.

“_ Yeah,” _ Catra had replied with her eyes glued to the fine detail she imprinted, “ _ you’re like me.” _

_ “Hmm. I just always thought you didn’t feel anything.” _ How else could Catra push past such an inconvenient barrier of physical pain to tattoo _ herself? _

_ “If I didn’t feel it why would I do it?” _

This macabre answer had Adora staring at Catra for a reason that for once wasn’t pure self-indulgence. Without even sparing a glance up, the artist continued, “_ I know what you’re thinking, Princess, and yeah, I know how fucked up it sounds. But like don’t worry, it’s just a trauma response.” _

Saying something was “just” a trauma response was about the most quintessential trauma response there ever was, but Adora didn’t press any further into uncharted waters. She knew Catra’s relationship with pain was unorthodox, beyond her capacity to understand even if she wondered late at night (not used to calling it a night closer to sunset than sunrise, Adora tossed and turned in a half empty bed subject to hour after hour of unmedicated worry now that her manuscript had been shipped off and was no longer in need of her) as her dry eyes bore into the fading tattoos on her arms. Years of being forced to repress any creativity colliding with a decade and a half of abuse resulted in a nuclear bomb of emotion that left blood colored paint all over the walls of Catra’s mind and soul. And with no outlet for her pain, that paint bled. Forget her trauma being stored and remembered in her body, it was _ written, _carved on her body. 

Learning how Catra treated her skin not as a canvas but as a hunting ground when she was a teenager, in a time when there was almost nothing in her control so she exerted over control on her body, evoked a trauma response all in it’s own in Adora. Catra passed off the scars Adora found when they were lying in her bed as “things that didn’t matter anymore” because she hadn’t done it years; she hadn’t even _ thought _ of it since she moved in with Scorpia and Entrapta. Catra told her this so casually that there was no other option than to believe that she stood by her word. But in Adora, the news sent her into one of the worst panic attacks she’d succumbed to since she found Mara’s little box of secrets after Razz’s death, and long after Catra was purr-snoring against her shoulder, Adora just couldn’t keep it down any longer and found herself spitting bile over the toilet. And when she managed to crawl off the bathroom floor and pull the sticky hair back from her mouth, she was met in the mirror by a monster. A monster with her quiet blue eyes and a bump on her nose in the exact same place. A monster who hurt people, hurt them by abandoning them, and couldn’t stop being selfish long enough to stop equating someone else’s pain with the magnitude of her own guilt.

Catra had said she gave herself a tattoo to feel something and Adora ate at the skin inside her cheek for weeks on end. Haunted by the notion that her presence in Catra’s life brought a tidal wave of traumatic realization her way, she chewed and chewed and chewed until the little sores dotting the inside of her mouth each represented a terrifying yet real possibilities she worried over. _ What if I trigger Catra and she relapses? What if she does and she lies to me about it? Is this just none of my business? I want to take her as she is so it has to be, right? Does tattooing enable her urge to hurt herself? _

That specific sore stung way more than the others. Because Adora knew there was more than one to inflict pain on oneself and she knew how to hide those creative ways behind false normalcy to prevent anyone from worrying. Creative ways like running until she collapsed but in an empty park before dawn, biting her nails and picking out her hair but making sure it never got as bad as when she had a full on bald spot in college, a little orange bottle gathering dust in the dark far corner of a desk drawer. Adora couldn’t shake the idea that she had inadvertently shoved Catra back into the fray of feeling through pain and pain only until she realized, there again under her needle, that there was a light in her split eyes she hadn’t seen since it died in their reflection as Adora watched her from the rearview mirror while Mara drove them apart.

Adora had a front row seat to watch as her girlfriend’s artistry blossomed right before her, whether it was the excitement radiating in her sparkling eyes when Julien approved color work and she pulled over the car just to get out her travel bag and show her the bottles of red and blue ink, or the discipline she conducted herself whenever Adora popped in to visit her at Sanctuary Ink (except for that one time Bow’s brother’s loft flooded and he left them unsupervised, Catra wasted no time hurrying Adora into the supply closet so they could make out like the rebellious teenagers). If this work, this career path, made Catra so unapologetically happy and driven as hell, could that tattoo needle that turned all the fruit in the Super Pal Trio’s apartment into tiny little masterpieces really be just another instrument of self destruction? Or, had somewhere in between losing her to false sense of control that came from self destruction, had this path allowed Catra to reconnect with that little girl and the spark that made her compulsively steal pens and markers so she could draw on any material- her and Adora’s skin included?

_ The second one, _Adora bit her lip to keep herself from smiling and distracting Catra as she sat in front of her, split eyes watching over careful hands with insatiable concentration. 

“Julien wants me working on shading, ugh.” Catra stuck her tongue out, her fingers rolling over the needle’s grip, as if such a request amounted to the most annoying thing in the world (somehow beating out Bow and Glimmer). Adora couldn’t help but turn the corner of her mouth up at this. After almost withering away in the shadow of the spotlight, Catra was learning the downsides that came with being crowned a prodigy: the slight uninterest of natural talent by one’s mentors that always tasted a little too much like rejection, and of course, the demand to jump through all the hoops everyone else was barely limping through. Julien wasn't an exception to this rule. He had taken Catra- an artist with little to no professional training- on under the guise she wouldn’t be taking any shortcuts to her license and would follow his each and every instruction, even when she saw it as busy work and a colossal waste of time. _ Especially _when she saw it as busy work and a colossal waste of time. “So this is gonna be a while.” 

“That’s fine.”

Because truth be told, Adora’s trauma response blocked her nerves from only so much of the steady stream of prickle and pain. The rest of her distraction was right in front of her. Adora had the best seat in the house to the antidote to her misery, along with two or more hours just to drink her in against the poison.

_ Curls that twirl and twist, falling gently in her face and kissing her thick eyelashes. Cobalt and amber twin stars. What lies in those eyes, and what have they seen? Would they tell me if they could speak? And her freckles brought out against the canvas of her skin by the summer sun? Would they reach out to me if they could? _Adora sighed. As her mind went blank to cope against the whir and grind of the needle, it left Adora with a series of blank pages to write down all her poetic observations of her girlfriend. Here, inches from her, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and ink, Adora’s brain did what it did best. Create something from what, to everyone else, was just another nothing. Catra didn’t know it and Adora would never say anything about for fear of being laughed at, but she was Adora’s muse. How else had Adora gone from the worst setback of writer’s block in history to a full length novel (along with several series installments) worth publishing? And now that novel had been handed off, Adora was still cursed with an imagination that never settled or slept. What better mental book to write while she was in between projects- and trying to cope under the weight of a mountain of anxiety and currently, a mechanized needle- than that of her stunning and captivating girlfriend?

_ The tips of her claws threaten to break through the plastic material of her gloves, as if the protective layer is too restricting for an artist of her stature. But having been made aware of the risks, having a heart tattooed gold, the artist doesn’t dare let her bare skin dance with the ink and blood and sweat. Her eyebrows follow a distinct curve as her eye line guides her down a dark black line; don’t blink, Catra. Don’t miss the thrust of detail. Don’t blink- _

“Ow!” Adora yelped, her breath collapsing into a hiss, as she yanked her arm out of Catra’s slipping grip. A striking pierce and jab of intense pain had interrupted her train of thought, the needle out of nowhere hitting a way deeper place under her skin than she’d grown used to over the past few weeks.

“Oh _ fuck, _ Adora! I’m- shit, damn it! I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean it-” Catra started, her panic and regret more than evident in her shaking voice and repeated apologies, the humming of the needle amplified as it hit the marble below. Her hand reached out for Adora’s on instinct but there was nothing to grab. Out of a protective and soothing urge, Adora pulled back further and held her arm close, blinking back tears that had come as a result of such sudden shock. _ I'm okay, I'm okay _ , she tried to tell herself as she forced her glance away. Because the only thing worse than having her anxiety flared by something as stupid as a simple injury was to cry about it like a big baby- in front of _ Catra _ ! of all people. Adora could breathe through the intense spike of pain and continue staring at that light fixture until it's amber glow was no longer blurry and then she could face her girlfriend. _ Yeah, that's a good plan _ , she thought, until she caught the look of sheer brokenness on Catra’s face on accident. _ Right... It was probably just an accident. Speaking of trauma response. _

Taking another calming breath, Adora let her arm go, let Catra take her back in her grip. Because she trusted her. Because she knew what a blow to the heart was to make such a hurtful mistake on accident. “I was trying a different angle and it went too deep- god, I’m fucking idiot.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It just- it just surprised me that’s all.” Adora reassured her, packing her words with the honesty that existed behind them and reaching out to her with her free hand, “I mean, this is why you’re practicing, right?”

A thousand emotions flashed in Catra’s eyes before she blinked. _ Oh no. Are we going to have a repeat of the storm? _ If so, then the next question became: was Adora mentally prepared to do that again when she hadn’t bounced back in full from the first time? _ Of course, I am! I would do _ anything _ for Catra. Even though I kind of suck at that whole emotional thing. _Except luck was, for once, in their favor. As the seconds ticked by, the tightness in Catra’s shoulders disappeared and her flaring nostrils quieted. Then, after a deep breath, Adora’s girlfriend tried to speak, “Yeah, I guess. I just thought I was past making such dumb mistakes.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Adora tilted her head and flashed her a smile, a smile that was genuine now that all the sting had faded, “I wrote a book and I still can’t spell ‘separate.’ I get it wrong literally _ every _time.”

Catra snorted and picked the needle back up. Fingers relaxing and unfolding, Adora once again extended her arm. This time around the needle kissed her skin with a type of cautious gentleness. _ Hmm. I'm lucky I'm not bleeding. I probably wouldn't have handled bleeding well. _

“I can’t believe I fucking did that.” Catra's voice tore Adora's gaze away from it's lazy stare towards the counter. Based on the way Catra whispered this sentiment under her breath and the way it carried cruelty like whip on an animal’s back, Adora pieced together that the critique was meant for Catra’s ears and Catra’s ears alone. Except, Adora chewed her lip, this was the _ second _ time she’d whispered something like that. This was an anomaly for the tattooing process; if Catra spoke to Adora while she was inking her it was a casual conversation, or updating her on where her fake tattoo stood in the works. Or she was trying to poke and prod her to get her to laugh. Adora could no longer sink back to adoring her when these whispers were a massive elephant in the room, one that could trample them at any given moment. Something was off, and she couldn’t just sweep this under the rug anymore. It was like, the opposite of who she was.

“Maybe you’re just having an off day?” Adora waded into this uncharted territory with caution, “You do seem kinda distracted?”

“What? What are you talking about?” asked Catra, looking up from her work, her eyebrows flying down in accusation.

“I know that Bow and Glimmer can be a lot, but they’re not doing it on purpose, you know that right?” Okay, forget wading and forget caution. She was just jumping in.

The change in Catra's face was instantaneous. Her eyes lit up a wild type of irate, her nostrils flaring and her teeth flashing. The gloved grip on Adora's arm twisted, igniting a painful friction wherever they were connected. When Catra managed a response, she could barely stutter through her anger, “Jesus fucking _ Christ, _ Adora, why do you just assume this about _ them _?”

_ Okay that… that hit a nerve. And she’s hitting mine- is it supposed to be that much pressure? _

“Well, it’s just you weren’t mad when you came over and I can’t figure out any other reason why you would make Bow faint other than he pissed you off! Which I also can’t figure out because I’ve never seen Bow piss _ anyone _off!”

As the words left her mouth, the unrelenting pressure that threatened to once again break through the first couple layers of her epidermis was there with such a force, and then it wasn’t. Then it was just the regular burn of the needle and the normal pressure of Catra’s grip. Gone at the same time was the face of lioness that had engulfed her, determined to rip her prey apart, and her place, a defeated, almost tortured look. Adora couldn’t help but wonder if this was a sign of progress- or if she had just managed to make things worse. Like she _ always _ did. 

But when Catra spoke, her words weren’t tainted with anger or simmering with hate. No. Her guard- she either let it down willingly or it slipped completely- disappeared and was replaced by a quaking vulnerability. “It’s like they don’t even want to know me. Fuckers.” she sucked in a deep breath and shook her right hand out, grimacing deeply. Bye-bye vulnerability.

“Who? Oh, Bow and Glimmer.”

“Duh.”

“You- you know that’s not true!” Now it was Adora’s turn to stutter.

“Is it, Princess? Because, oh, I can’t even think of one fucking time my presence around hasn’t twisted their fancy Bright Moon panties.” bit Catra.

Adora could only whisper in reply, “They- they liked you that first night at the bakery.”

“Yeah, _ Bow _did. For like twenty fucking minutes. And then we started actually going out and now it’s like I’m the worst thing that ever happened to you!” 

“You’re _ not _ the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” Adora protested. Her eyes flickered downward, catching a glimpse of Catra’s work in progress. Catra had told her never to look at it or her brain would freak on the fly. _ Wow, that’s really really red. Is it always that red? That can’t be normal. _ “And I know Bow and I know he would _ never _ treat someone like that on purpose. Catra, where is this coming from-”

“And Sparkles acts like I’m not good enough to lick the goddamn ground you walk on-”

“She’s just really protective, babe!” the shout escaped her lips and ran over any other complaint that could be coming next. Maybe it was the digging force of the sharp object in her flesh, maybe it was the aggravation rising in her throat at having her friends- the friends who were pretty much her _ family- _ insulted left and right, maybe it was a combination of the two, but Adora was sick of playing defense. “They just don’t know you, okay?” _ You can be _ unbelievably _ hostile for like the first three months of knowing you, you can’t pin that on Glimmer or Bow! _ “It’s not- it’s not personal.” 

“Oh yeah?” Catra raised a caustic eyebrow, “Who’s fault is that?”

“Um-” Adora started, only to falter and purse her lips. Okay so _ maybe _ this was on her more than she first assumed. Shielding her from Catra from her roommates was never an act of malice, it was an act of desperation! What a constant and _ never ending _ struggle it was to keep those two nosy birds- whom she loved very much but who didn’t have limits?- out of her personal life; when they shared everything from expenses to TV tastes, Adora thought she was awarded _ some _ boundaries after all she gave to them. So she kept secrets! So maybe Catra was one of those! But this was her first real and meaningful relationship in, well, forever! She wanted it to be _ theirs _ , not some Wattpad fanfic her friends all got to be a part of. Had she really screwed up by doing that? By trying to keep the door shut? Adora didn’t exactly equate keeping Catra to her selfish self to the crime Catra was making it out to be, but she could follow her heartbreaking logic all the same. _ All I wanted was some alone time. _But of course it had blown up in her face. Because what didn’t these days? 

“It’s not like you don’t know Scorpia. _ Or _ Entrapta. These people are just a bunch of rich, weird strangers and to them, I’m your _ scary _girlfriend. Like, just because they follow me on instagram doesn’t make us besties.” Catra whispered towards the counter. And… and she had a point. 

“Catra,” Adora sighed, squeezing her girlfriend’s knee with her free hand, “Tell me how I can fix this. You're not some dirty secret I want to hide. Please tell me. _ Please.” _

“Fix it? Really?”

“Ooh, I know! Why don’t you come over and we’ll do, like a game night! Like you, Scorpia and Entrapta do! Or- or, you could come over and we’ll binge the rest of Brooklyn 99! I bet I can coax Glimmer away from the bakery for a night and I’ll have to bribe Bow with taking over his trash duty, but I bet he would come out of his “study den” to hang out. Especially for Andy Samberg!”she suggested. Adora could only hope she would hear her, that she would recognize she was trying. That was always the number one risk since that first Uber ride home. That Adora wasn’t trying hard enough, that she only ever amounted to the mistakes she made in the past That she wasn’t what Catra really deserved. 

Catra didn’t speak at first, just wiped the fluid that had gathered on the surface of Adora’s aching skin. “Would Sparkles and Bow really approve if _ you _invited me over?”

What? _ That doesn’t make any sense! _ the writer in her bugged, pulling at her thoughts like a child pulling on their mother’s hair. _ Why would she phrase it like that, that way _ specifically _ if it didn’t mean something? _ said the mental manifestation that had spent years agonizing over the exact syntax of her writing and the meaning it held. _ Unless...oh. She wants Glimmer and Bow to make the first step. _

And Adora didn’t know if that was something she could blame Catra for wanting, not when Scorpia and Entrapta had both been so friendly and accommodating, accepting of her status of their friend’s girlfriend. But she also didn’t know how to make that happen. She had no clue where to even start. 

_ If I ask Glimmer or Bow to ask Catra, she’ll just- She’ll see right through that! And then she’ll know I meddled and that’ll make her even more upset. Ugh, why is she too clever for her own good? _ The needle was back on her skin, following the natural flow of gravity as it traveled down a guided line. Catra's focus still lay on filling in the solid lines she'd stenciled earlier. And that meant they hadn’t even gotten to the shading aspect, that they weren’t even close. _ I guess I could have her over more when they’re around. Wait, would we even survive that? _ Thoughts retreating back to how Glimmer and Bow neglected Catra’s arrival without blinking turned Adora’s stomach. Whether or not what Catra was saying about her roommates and how they treated her was true (and c'mon, there was a chance she was exaggerating, at least a _ little. _ Catra wasn't known for her stellar and healthy relationship with her own emotions), there was a staggering chance that Glimmer’s methods passive aggressiveness would not react nicely with Catra’s play of straight up _ aggressiveness _. Having the two in the same 600 square feet meant Adora was basically cooking an Entrapta grade bomb . 

But right as Adora was hunting around for the right word to say that she would try- try to be more inclusive and more understanding because as lost for answer as she was now, that didn’t mean there wasn’t one floating out there somewhere; she just had to keep looking, keeping thinking, and find it- strident slippered footsteps sounded on the staircase, accompanied by a loud a dramatic sigh. Adora didn’t miss the flash of irritation flying through Catra’s unmatching irises like a seriously pissed off shooting star. But she didn’t blink, she didn't even look away and the needle stayed in contact with the design on Adora’s skin.

“Well,” Glimmer announced as she came into the kitchen, “I got Bow into bed. He’s pretty upset about being torn away from his homework, but he’ll live. As in,” Adora watched as her roommate turned her gaze Catra’s direction, eyes narrowing as if her goal was to burn a hole in the other woman's head, “he's gonna be okay.”

Adora sent an irked glare of her own back Glimmer’s way, but her roommate merely shrugged it off unbothered and swung open the freezer door. _ Oh my God. Was Catra right? Do my roommates hate my girlfriend? And was I just _ stupid _ enough to miss it? _

_ Typical Adora, _two voices sounded off in her head in tandem; one with the ringing laughter of her girlfriend, one dripping with the disappointment of her former foster caretaker.

Growling at low volume, Catra replied through her teeth “Great. What are _ you _ doing down here?” 

This had Adora slumping her shoulders and rolling her ocean eyes back once again to the point of pain. Because, _ oh Christ, _ Glimmer didn’t just hate Catra, Catra hated _ her _ and now they were stranded in a cycle of clever comebacks and hurt feelings. That was the inevitable truth Adora had blissfully ignored until it came to bite her in the ass- or today, the arm. Unable to stand even the sight (And why? Why was that? What about the other one was such a slight of God?) of each other, Catra and Glimmer went and made matters worse in their little passive war: they stranded Adora right in the middle of like some hapless monkey suddenly grateful her uptight guardian homeschooled her through junior high. _ This is way gayer than I thought middle school would ever be. _

“Oh I dunno, getting Bow an ice pack for his _ head injury. _And maybe a popsicle.” winked Glimmer, forcing Adora to swallow a scream, for several different reasons. Of course on the other side of the kitchen island away from Catra’s nails and teeth and needles, she could turn up the brat all the way to eleven without fearing the consequence of having her dyed purple hair ripped from her skull. Adora, still under the needle, could not say the same. Catra kept pushing and pushing and pushing the needle, never quite reaching the depth she pierced her with earlier, but never letting up on Adora’s nerves either. “Yikes, that looks like it hurts.” Glimmer commented, rising up on her tiptoes to see the full view. The Mean-Girl tone of ice had evaporated her voice, but the damage was done. Especially to Adora’s pores.

“I’ve gotten used to it.” Adora replied, figuring this was the best and most palatable answer to soothe the growing tension in the room. From where she stood there weren't many other options that would end in her favor.

“Of course you have,” imputed her roommate as she tore into the plastic of her popsicle with her teeth, “Hey, before I forget, I have to go shopping for Mermista’s pool party later. Was there anything you needed or wanted me to get for the party? We are in charge of snacks, after all.”

“Mermista’s pool party…” Adora trailed off. This odd answer could only earn her two confused looks, but she shook them off. 

Glimmer stopped licking the pink ice to shake her head, “Yeah. You know the one Mermista and Sea Hawk have been planning for months? That they have every year? The one that’s in like three days, bae?”

“That not in your planner, Princess?” snided Catra. It took every sensible ounce in Adora’s body not to kick Catra in the shin and end up with a tattooing needle in her eye. 

“Adora, did you seriously forget? We were gonna go swimsuit shopping tomorrow! You weren’t gonna like bail on me to go to the gym or something, right?” Her eyes landing on Catra with the words “_ or something,” _ Glimmer’s shoulders fell, the ice pack for Bow almost slipping in her elbow.

“No, no!” Adora assured her. She had no plans to bail on _anyone. _Not a single person in this room. In fact, a lightbulb had just come on, granting her a way to introduce Catra into her friend group while cushioning everyone’s _extremely _delicate feelings. “It’s just- why don’t we invite Catra to the pool party? I mean, _everyone’s _gonna be there and Mermista has this huge mansion, so it’s not like we’d be imposing by bringing her!”

“Adora, what are you doing-”

But Catra’s heated question was interrupted by the sound of Glimmer choking on her popsicle. Adora and Catra both turned in tandem as she hacked, her face turning a light shade of purple, before squashing any of Adora’s intentions to get up and give her the heimlich by taking in a deep breath of air, “Sorry- sorry. Wrong pipe. Ice _ really _hurts when you swallow it crushed like that.”

“Oh. Well I’m glad you’re okay. So… is it cool if Catra comes to the party- ow! Catra!” hissed Adora. What was going _ on _ with her? First, Adora was just a piece of meat to leave little bruise marks in, now she was actively trying to cause her misery? Sending her an affronted expression that she hoped read _ “knock it off, babe, I’m not made out of the same material as a punching bag!” _Adora tried to pull her arm away from Catra’s little torture device. But Catra was not backing down. She would not for the life of her let go.

All Adora could do was sigh in massive frustration. Of course this wasn’t going the way she wanted it, too! _ Ugh, this is what I get for being spontaneous! I was _ supposed _ to have a plan! This is why we have a plan, Adora! _

When she raised her head and caught Glimmer’s eye, her best friend was looking between the two of them with a look that was somehow the worst combination of queasy and bewildered. “Uh, I guess she can come? It’s um, yeah like I said it’s this Friday at noon. I bet Adora can give you the rest of the details like the address-”

“Why doesn’t she just carpool with us? Your mom was gonna lend her car.” Adora managed to say with a pleasant tone despite her the clamped state of her jaw. This. This was how it felt to have your skin ripped off, pore by pore, cell by cell. 

“Yeah… why not? So, uh, I’m gonna go give Bow this pretty melty ice pack before it’s just water. But um, good luck!” With a curt smile, Glimmer excused herself from the kitchen and was flying up the stairs at the speed of light as if she knew there was a fallout coming. Bow’s door on the second floor swung open with a _ whish! _and right as it slammed closed, Catra threw the still buzzing needle onto the counter.

“What the _ hell _did you do that for, Adora?!” she raged, gloved fingers flying into her curls. 

“Catra, I don’t understand,” _ ‘cause you won’t tell me what’s wrong, you’ll just write “FUCK YOU” into my skin with all the force in the freaking world, apparently! _“I thought you wanted to hang out with Bow and Glimmer.”

“I _ wanted _ them to stop treating me like I’m the scum of the fucking earth! Not get roped into going to some mansion so they can all see me drown!” Catra didn’t even bother to look at Adora. Instead of looking her in the eyes, instead of extending a hand to communicate, she huffed and picked up the needle. Adora, thrown so backwards by the turn this conversation had taken, hadn’t had time to pull her arm away and was suddenly back to biting her tongue through the returned pain.

“Catra, Catra stop!” Adora forced the words through somehow, “You’re hurting me. Please.”

Sighing, Catra’s fingers danced on the grip and Adora watched as the needle came out of the surface of her skin. “It’s already fucking ruined anyway.” Catra mumbled about the tattoo.

“You don’t have to stop,” Adora shook her head. “But, maybe ease up a little? And it doesn’t look that bad. I can still tell it’s Loo-kee.”

“Ugh, it looks like complete shit. He’d hate this.” Adora couldn’t help but giggle just a little bit at this. Of everyone walking the earth right now, there was no opinion Catra valued more than that of the tuxedo cat- and sometimes his peers- who called the Bright Moon mall his home. Which was funny, because well, Loo-kee was a cat. 

“Can you fix it?” she prodded Catra’s leg with her foot. 

“Mmm, fuck, maybe?” Catra answered with honesty. Propping herself up, she narrowed her split eyes and surveyed the black ink of what she had mapped out so far. She blinked. Then, repositioning the needle, Catra took a deep breath before laying back down on Adora’s arm. This time it didn’t dig so painfully it brought tears to Adora’s eyes. This time, the gentleness was back. 

“Look, I didn’t mean to push this party on you.” Adora started, hoping her voice possessed the same gentleness Catra was treating her with. Deep in her stomach was the knowledge that she shouldn’t even bring this up until she was sure they were out of the woods that were Catra’s emotional problems. But something beyond that pushed Adora to push Catra. Something… she couldn’t quite put a name to. Or something that _ scared _ her to put a name to. “It’s just- I want you there and I thought this would be like, a non-threatening way to be around them?”

An infinite minute passed before Catra spoke again. “It isn’t just _ that, _ Adora.”

“Then what is it?” 

“I… I can’t fucking swim.”

Adora couldn’t help but snort and wasn’t at all surprised by the way it got the needle pushed down just like the button she was inadvertently pushing. “Sorry, I just, I wasn’t expecting you to say _ that _.” Catra looked up for a split second to glare, “But you don’t have to swim! Mermista always has other stuff to do like an open bar and a barbeque, oh and games! Oh, and you can bring whoever you want. Scorpia and/or Entrapta. They’re always welcome, and that might make it easier.” 

“Wow, you’re thick.” Catra shook her head, her tongue dancing on an incisor and something in Adora just _ snapped _.

“Okay, _ what _ am I not getting this time Catra? If you think I’m so dumb, then spell it out for me!” hit Adora. She just couldn’t take it anymore! The passive aggressive tattooing, the sarcastic commentary! Catra was speaking a foreign language and Adora was _ sick _of not having a translator, sick of being patient and waiting for her to tell her in words she could understand. Catra came into her home, made one roommate pass out and pissed off the other, but it was Adora’s fault for not automatically understanding every hidden message like she was magic? 

“You’re _ not _fucking listening to me, Adora!” With each menacing word, the needle dug deeper and deeper, until Adora had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. “If you could pull your head out of your ass for one goddamn minute you’d remember that I’m fucking terrified of the water! Not hanging out with your lousy excuses for friends!”

_ Oh. _

“But you can’t _ separate _ your dumb identity issues from your feelings about me so it’s all about _ you! _” Catra cried. “Like it always fucking was! God, I was pretty fucking dumb to think it would be different this time around!”

The needle slipped. Lighting up her arm like a forest on fire, the trauma response set in faster than Adora could blink and register what had happened, where this hurt was coming from. Red began to pool around where the sharp object had entered muscle, and as Adora tried to flounder around the piercing sensation of pain that traveled up her arm, Catra ripped the needle out and silenced the machine with the hit of her fist. Growling behind tears, she gathered up the parts and threw them, contaminated by Adora's blood and all, carelessly back into her bag; no yelling, no expletives, no accusations. 

Adora threw her hand over the wound, trying in desperation to take hold amongst the slipper surface her own blood had created. _ What just happened? _ Adora asked herself like a scratched record on repeat. She was unable to think about anything but the last three seconds, the hatred that had flown past Catra’s lips with no abandon, the way her words all sounded too… too much like a break up. _ No- no! I won’t lose her again, I promised- _

The front door slammed shut. As if this was some terrible nightmare Adora was waking up from her, she dared to look at what was without a doubt, reality. A reality of her own making. Adora noticed at the same time her girlfriend's boots and jacket were gone from the entryway, pressing harder on her throbbing forearm, pressing until she was numb and void of feeling in the area. Catra was gone, too.

_ Okay, I can fix this. Deep breaths. This- this isn’t the end. I’ll just clean this up and go over to her place- _

“Was that the door?” Glimmer’s voice yelled down the stairs.

“Are the needles gone?” a now conscious Bow added.

“Adora, are you okay? Oh my god, you’re _ bleeding! _ ” shouted her roommate the second she was down the last step and had met Adora where she stood staring at a closed door. “Did _ she _do this to you?” 

Adora didn’t answer. She didn’t answer because she didn’t have a good one, one that would make things better, or erase what she had just let happen. No. All Adora could do was keep her hand on her arm and keep the pressure firm, and hope that, eventually, the bleeding would come to a stop. 

_

Three days.

Three whole fucking days had crawled by since Catra stormed out of Adora’s apartment so goddamn angry she couldn’t see straight. 

Seventy-three  _ full  _ hours (and 22 minutes,  _ not  _ that Catra was counting like some whipped loser) since she threw an ugly tantrum, sitting in the bitter heat of Marshmallow’s dumb car and it’s stupid broken air conditioner on the corner of Adora’s street, wasting away the afternoon until there weren’t any screams left in her raw, scratchy throat and all she could do was cry as her exhaustion overtook her misery.

_ “Fuck you, Adora.”  _ Catra had sobbed into her knees, cradling her body like the broken and useless child she was. But even worse- and even weaker- than her little fit of tears was the way she couldn’t even put her fucking money where her mouth was. No matter how hard she tried, her bad-mouthed slander of Adora was nothing more than a slew of empty words she didn’t have the balls to mean.

The first day after the tattooing incident took the fucking cake as one of the hardest days of her shitty,  _ shitty  _ life. Topped- somehow- all those days as a teenager when that baby snitch ruined her plans for a decent, actual future, all those months getting burned by a certain bitch hellbent on breaking her, all those days falling at the feet of a man wishing he’d just choke the life out of her like he always threatened he’d do one day. But this- this wallowing around in total misery and sobbing as she lay defeated on the kitchen floor- wasn't the run of the mill abuse she'd gotten so used to; this was the pain of distance, of turning her back on the only place she saw worth being on fucking purpose, and it hurt like a son of a bitch. 

Catra had made sure to board up every window and every door in whatever scraps where left of her soul, nail by nail, after Adora drove off into the dust and didn’t look back, so she’d gotten pretty used to living in a dark, empty husk of house. Then pretty-n-ditzy little author wannabe with an ass that wouldn’t quit had to come and rip all those boards off with her Herculean strength, expose her to the burn of daylight like it was just another Bright Moon expenditure with absolutely  _ no  _ consequences. And that’s why it hurt so fucking bad; Catra walked back into the shadows hoping lick her wounds in darkness and to succumb to it’s comfortable and familiar numbness and for it to take her like she was returning home. Turns out that didn’t work, didn’t do  _ jack shit,  _ when you knew what was on the other side of the light.

The second day Catra almost put her phone down the garbage disposal. Yeah, maybe she’d let Adora hurt her enough to spend one day wrapped up in her comforter wishing to whatever clown of a god was listening that she was drunk/ in a coma, but one day was all the satisfaction that god (and Adora) got. She was gonna get out of bed if it fucking killed her. (It came pretty goddamn close.) Julien would have her job if Catra didn’t clean his equipment. Catra would have Adora’s throat if she texted  _ one more fucking time.  _

And as Catra stood over the sink playing with her phone’s life, her grip tightening around the plastic case when it buzzed for the 18th time, it hit her what she was actually doing. Hit  _ hard.  _ By blocking out her girlfriend’s texts and her calls and her voicemails- all begging just to  _ talk  _ to her so they could work this out, “ _ Please,  _ Catra”- Catra was instigating a fight. Catra was instigating their  _ first  _ fight as a couple. And that thought hit her like a punch to the stomach that she so  _ fucking  _ deserved. 

But Catra wasn’t about to stop holding her pride to go and hold Adora. Fuck no! Not when that airhead was getting what  _ she  _ deserved for starting this idiotic argument in the first fucking place!  _ She _ threw the first punch. She was all “Oh Catra, just talk to me!” Laying it on a little thick for someone who wouldn’t even be in the hot seat if she’d just listened in the first damn place! If she stopped eating the shit disguised as sunshine that came out of her roommates’ asses to give  _ her girlfriend’s  _ opinions, and maybe if Catra got lucky (cause she never,  _ ever  _ did with the King and Queen of Bright Moon around) her feelings, the same amount of weight. 

Maybe. Yeah, maybe.

Because how many times had Catra turned the other cheek around Adora’s pretty and perfect entourage? How could a whole group of idiots go from invading her privacy to dropping her ass on the ground in a 180 turn like that? It was like they just lost all interest in Catra once she wasn’t on some stretcher in the hospital, her time of death being declared in a language none of those college educated bastards spoke, by some mustached latino stereotype! Seriously! Catra was  _ not _ the naive little love interest of some telenovela (let’s be honest, she did not have the tits for it) that experienced an exaggerated drop in viewership once her slowburn ended in the lead’s loving and strong arms, swoon! 

_ Barf.  _

A like on her instagram post from Perfuma or a donation from Frosta on her Patreon was about all she got from the bakery alliance. And Catra didn’t care about that; definitely not at first. Not when she wasn’t exactly begging for their approval and taking those suckers’ money for all it was worth was just a stupid game. Except, Adora must’ve thought  _ she  _ was the sucker for thinking that Catra wouldn’t notice the way her girlfriend steered her away from the bakery at all fucking costs, shot down any suggestions of being there- “Babe, I want a cinnamon roll!” “I’ll buy you one at the mall!” “I’m not driving to the fucking upper east side for even lower quality, Adora!” “Then  _ I’ll  _ drive!” “Ugh!”- or went out of her way to see her at Sanctuary instead of meeting up at The Rebellion (dumb name). Catra got the picture. A perfect little picture framed by the fact that Adora was either embarrassed of her friends- or of Catra. 

But Adora cinnamon roll blocking her from the palace of morons didn’t come within in the inch of hurt that came from the little passive-aggressive war Glimmer and Bow decided to wage on Catra just for stepping into their apartment.

“Fucking Sparkles and Rainbow,” growled Catra into her pillow, tasting the unique rage that came with their names in her mouth, “‘They’re protective, babe!’ ‘This is their home, too’ ‘I’ve never had a real girlfriend like you so of course there’s gonna be a learning curve!’”

Catra screamed into her pillow, letting all her rage out in one cathartic growl of a cry. "Learning curve" her ass. Learning curved implied things would get better, not that they would get that much fucking worse! Yeah duh, Catra didn't expect to be their friends over night but she also didn't expect one measly PDA incident to send them to Camp Hate Catra. Walking in on her on top of Adora and making out with her on their precious living room couch sent two sparkly dipshits from "overprotective yet well-meaning friends" into full-fledged Mormons, one of which sent her dirty looks (literally  _ every  _ chance she got! God Catra didn't even have to open her mouth to piss Sparkles off!) and gave dramatic soliloquies about bleaching her poor, poor eyes, and the other used that said bleach to clean the goddamn couch _ in front of them _ ! To this fucking day Catra couldn’t figure out what the big flipping deal was; yeah, if they’d walked in five minutes later she  _ would’ve  _ been topless but  _ no,  _ thanks to them _ .  _ Ever since the fatal couch incident, the roommate possy always saw to Adora and Catra keeping a ten inch space for the Lord between them, even when those two idiots weren’t even in the room. 

Didn’t matter if they were quiet. Didn’t matter if Rainbow had noise canceling headphones or if Sparkles was downstairs baking. Didn’t matter if Catra was dying of thirst and Adora was the only glass of water she’d consent to touching her for miles and miles. Her girlfriend wouldn’t cross that ten inches whenever there was more than two bodies on the premises and Catra couldn’t even fucking blame her when tweedle cock and tweedle block were gifted with spazzy little radars that went bezerk the second things went past PG. “Just checking in!” they’d always say with a perfected serial killer smile (god, they put even dearest daddy Hordak to shame) disappearing out of thin air and throwing open the door just as Catra’s sharpened fingers collided with the hook of Adora’s bra. 

_ Seems like the only time they show their bratty little faces is when I try and get some.  _ The rest of the time, those two avoided her like Entrapta’s rat Emily gave her the fucking plague. Catra dropped by with dinner for Adora- “And maybe desert,” she’d wink and flash her teeth just to see em squirm- Bow and Glimmer would jump from their Great British Baking show marathon as if the previously bleached couch caught fire. Catra came to go over edits to She Ra, the Best Friend Squad would split from the kitchen whispering “guess being the star villian has its perks.” 

Oh the villain?  _ That _ Catra could be. With pleasure, actually. Anything to remind those two that she had something to fight for on their little glitter covered turf, and like hell would she go down easy.

Tearing a book from Entrapta’s book of verified chaos, she decided to test her avoidance-PDA theory. Back at the beginning of August, Adora had Catra stop by for one more look over the final manuscript and by that she meant, “tell me it’s good enough because I can’t let go of it, it’s my baby! I'm  _ freaking _ out- oh god is my bald spot back?” Catra, being the  _ good  _ girlfriend she was, found not a panicking Adora when she dropped by, but only three dirty little gossip birds giggling around the kitchen table. But Catra didn’t fold. She never  _ folded,  _ not when the king of an undefeated crime empire taught her to play poker, and  _ never _ in the face of spoiled rich kids who got everything they ever wanted- Adora included  _ apparently _ . Catra took this set back in stride, knowing she would not leave this battle empty handed; whenever her girlfriend was three spoonfuls deep of eggless cookie dough and one glass of wine in (the Best Friend Squad treatment for her stress about She Ra, making Catra’s trip a complete waste of time ‘cause by when she got there Adora was all “oh right, She Ra! I was freaking out about that earlier, but I’m fine now, Glimmer and Bow cheered me up! We're gonna do facials and watch a movie if you wanna stay.” Yuck.) and excused herself to the bathroom, Catra snuck up stairs, into Bow’s room, and without bothering to even untie her boots, started jumping on his perfectly made up bed.

Her results? Let’s just say they’d turn Entrapta’s purple hair green. Catra wasn’t even jumping for twenty seconds- oh yeah, she counted, she collected her data- before she heard the furious thunder of privileged footsteps collobering up the stairs. Snickering, Catra jumped higher when she heard Adora’s door thrown open.  _ Fucking pervs. _ No shame on this side of the line, obviously. They did find her- took em both a period of a whole minute- before she heard Bow screeching “MY BED!” He burst through the door breathless only to discover her cross legged, picking her teeth with her middle finger, as Adora’s voice resonated up to the second floor. “Guys? Where’d you go?”

Served all three of them fucking right to not even give them an explanation, feign a migraine and get the hell out. 

The third day… God Catra wished she’d thrown her phone down that drain. The third day of the fight was the closest Catra had come since being hungover since that fateful night in march. “A drink would probably make me feel a lot fucking better,” she murmured rolling over onto her pillow and face to face with the literal fabric of her next decision.

This hole in her chest, aching and oozing darkened anger and hurt, wasn't the result of drinking one too many bottles of tequila until her vision was a smeared oil painting and her words came out of her mouth only in her native tongue. This was an emotional hangover. One that had her reading old texts, staring at old photos taking up all the storage on her phone, trying to find the tears to cry during commercials with puppies or couples or little kids helping each but the well had long run dry. Three days without Adora gave Catra a nasty kind of withdrawal that made her lungs burn and eyes dry and heart ache and she hated every goddamn second of it. And she  _ hated _ Adora for it. She hated that Adora had so much power over her, over her thoughts and feelings. She hated that the power was so vast and so magnetic, purging guilt from her stomach that had her digging through the clothes pile under her bed for that MegaMart bikini Scorpia made her buy after she promised to teach Catra to swim at the YMCA pool, a task they never got to ‘cause Catra chickened out and got hammered to get out of it, leaving her friend alone treading water and worrying where she was. 

And it fucking sucked 'cause… 'cause the third day Catra could no longer hang on to her rage at her girlfriend reliving her best moments playing Chicken with Sparkles and Rainbow. She wasn’t even reliving that god-awful fight or the words she’d kill to take back, the ones she’d kill to say. Somehow, and surprisingly without a drop of alcohol, Catra had managed to swallow the anger and the hurt that radiated from that moment in Adora’s kitchen. Somehow, by the universe's fucked up will, she’d pushed past the way Bow’s worked himself up into a twisted bitch just for having to open the door and past all of Glimmer’s unnecessary, shrill, and bitchy commentary. Because of the simple black bikini she’d laid out in front of her, Catra was having thoughts of different types of life’s unkind cruelties.

Catra tore her eyes away from the wrinkled top. Tears pricked her eyes and she swallowed the lump in her throat.  _ This is what I get for trying to do the right thing for fucking once- punished by those monsters who made me scared and weak in the first damn place. _ Down on her mattress lay her phone, still bright with the reminder of why she was doing this- trying to convince her frozen limbs to get up and off the bed, strip and put on the swimsuit- in the first place.

_ adora 2:31 am _

_ _ _ Is there anything I can say to make this better? I shouldn’t have brought up the party. I’m sorry, I really am, Catra. I'm not playing any games. _

_ adora 2:44 am _

_ You can still come if you want. I just found out Sea Hawk’s gonna be making specialty drinks. Maybe you'd like that? I’d like to see you _

_ adora 2:59 am _

_ I wouldn’t be texting if this wasn’t killing me, Catra. Why won’t you say anything?! Please say something _

_ Catra’s cell 3:00 am _

_ fucking FINE adora! jesusfucking christ if i go to this dmb rich people party will let me go the fuck to sleep!?????????????  _

Catra’s phone didn’t vibrate one single time after that. Not once had it lit up this morning, as opposed to the hundred million times it had over the last two and a half days. “God, Adora. This is the one fucking time you don’t tempt fate?” 

Fucking poor choice of words that was. Closing her eyes, Catra tried to chase the mental shadows that threatened to engulf her every time she looked at the dumb bikini or thought of putting it on or pictured staring at the shape of her body made blue in the reflection of the pool, where her watery death almost certainly waited for her, no cruel hands to pull her from the depths this time. But she couldn’t run from the reminder of Mrs. Weaver, she couldn’t run from her threats or her warnings. Just like she couldn’t run, not even all the way to the other end of the country and hide like a coward in Bright Moon, from Hordak and his interminable series of plans.

_ “You know, Catra,”  _ Mrs. Weaver’s ghostly words wrapped around Catra as she hugged her knees close, “ _ I used to have an old barn cat when I was a little girl. She once had a litter of kittens. Unfortunately, my family was quite poor and we couldn’t take care of all of them. My mother decided to give them away and she was very successful in finding them homes.”  _

Even in the stale summer air that leaked into their apartment, Catra could still feel the way her young heart beat with excitement when her caretaker set her down to tell her that story, a story not about rules or obedience, but about something she loved more than anything in the world at that age: kittens. She had thought that, after spilling a carton of milk wrestling Adora at the breakfast table, Mrs. Weaver brought her down into the basement to punish her for acting out. Punish  _ Catra,  _ not Adora; Adora was too well behaved and much too smart to have started such a rumble even though she  _ did.  _ And all that time Catra waited for the lecture to come and the chilling sight of her undoing her belt that always followed, it just never came. Had Mrs. Weaver changed her mind? Was she not going to discipline her? That was the conclusion she’d jumped to when the story started was because seven year old Catra was a naive little shit who hadn’t learned that her entire survival depended on learning how to spot an obvious trap.

“ _ Except… there was one little kitten who was bad.” _

_ “Bad?”  _ her young voice trembled against the memory and in the present where the hand of a ghost couldn’t caress her, Catra dug her teeth deep into her lip to keep herself there.

“ _ Yes Catra, this kitten was very bad. She acted out. She… spilled her milk.” _

_ “She… she did?” _

_ “Oh yes. And because this kitten couldn’t behave, my mother couldn’t find her a home. But again, as I said,  _ we _ couldn’t take care of her because we had no money.” _

_ “What did you do to her?” _

_ “Well, if you must know… my mother took her to the river by our house. And drowned her.”  _ In the past, young Catra let a petrified gasp because she was small and stupid. In the present, Catra swallowed a lump in her throat because she was  _ weak,  _ unable to shake this haunting no matter how hard she fought it. _ “Now, Catra, I trust you’ve learned your lesson? You will behave from here on now that you know what happens to kittens who do not? I wouldn’t tempt fate if I were you.” _

Catra couldn’t fight the growl that escaped her lips, her stiletto nails digging deep into her mattress as she did her everliving best not to tear the damn thing to shreds. She was only seven years old and Mrs. Weaver practically promised to fucking drown her! Over and over for years, that spiteful bitch would cup her chin and ask her in that condescending tone of torture “ _ What do we do to kittens who misbehave?”  _

“ _ What do we do to kittens who misbehave? _ ” “ _ Curiosity killed the cat. _ ” Okay! She  _ got  _ it. Catra was not a  _ person _ with feelings or a mind or a soul to them, but an  _ animal _ ; a feral and unwanted nuisance they could put down at any time. A punching bag. A pawn. But never that scared little girl who just wanted a home and someone to hold her without hurting her! 

God damnit, why didn’t Selena just name her some basic ass latina name? Not many fablelike threats you could spin out of Camilla or Manuela! But  _ noooooo,  _ the only way Selena could love the mistake that was her daughter was to gift her a name of one thing she  _ did  _ love, a name her terrorizers would steal, dirty and weaponize. Like it was never even hers in the first place.

Now Adora just  _ expected _ her to be okay with getting in a swimming pool after all those years Mrs. Weaver prophesying her gurateened end by water like that little innocent kitten who’s one sin was being different from the others. And Catra was different from  _ these  _ others, from Adora’s golden and  _ well-behaved  _ friends, who never got drunk or wore unwashed clothes… or made her bleed in her own kitchen. So, like fucking hell was she gonna tempt fate.

_ You never told Adora any of that crap about Weaver and her “creative” threats. How was she supposed to know your deal with water? You were too busy losing your shit just ‘cause Sparkles looked at you wrong and so you went ahead and ruined the one good thing you have!  _ A voice- the closest to her own- rang in her head like a drum banging on her every sensitive nerve. The same voice that made her get out the damn bikini in the first place, the manifestation that was the closest thing she had to a conscience.  _ She never knew Weaver told you that fucked story. All she knew was that you went missing while she cleaned up the milk, and she found you by the water heater after Weaver left. She  _ held _ you while cried like a baby!  _

By the water heater young Adora found young Catra. How fucking ironic was that? That the place her foster “mother” threatened to drown her like that poor baby was the same place she’d almost kill her years laters by sticking her in a blast of pressurized and boiling, you guessed it,  _ water.  _

“Weaver taunts me for  _ years _ then fucks up my back, ‘cause what? Drowning me is just too messy? And then Hordak who does have the balls to have a body on his porch almost lets me drown in his own pool after I tried to save his little shit of a son- you know what? You know fucking what?” Catra spit. Crumbling the two pieces of the bikini in her hand, she moved to toss the stupid things on the floor. “I’m not going to this fucking party… Sorry, Adora.” the swimsuit fell to the floor as her grip went limp, her body weakened by what breaking this promise would do to her waiting girlfriend. And she  _ was  _ sorry; the apologetic sensibility in her was quick to foul any misdirected anger that was actually meant for her abusers and not her girlfriend. Catra didn’t even have to look at her ‘W-W-S-D?’ bracelet hanging from her wrist to know that somehow she would have to make this right. “I’ll go over tonight and try to make it up to her by saying I’m willing to talk.” By folding her hands, showing her cards, and losing the game. 

But she had too. Catra had to lose this battle if she wanted to win the war. There was too much on the fucking line to let her dumb pride keep her away from the one place in this shitty world she  _ actually  _ wanted to be. Fear was one thing; fear was something Adora would of all people would understand. Catra wasn’t the only one left shaking in her boots by the very thought of Weaver and she wasn’t the only one who had taken drastic measures to avoid tempting any fate that would bring her or the shadowed tendrils back. Plus, just going over there later meant she didn’t have to deal with shrill Sparkles or Bow or any of those other idiotic Bright Mooners. One quick text and Adora would meet her in Marshmallow’s car out front. That way she could just stick to seeing the rest of the perfect little litter on instagram where their relationship  _ belonged. _

With the bikini and all it’s triggering energy on the floor and out of her sight, Catra could lie comfortably back down and try to come up with some shitty yet believable excuse (Her first go of head-splitting migraine was too see through for Adora and that’s what Catra got for letting her past the walls, so she would be brainstorming for a hot minute or two) for ditching the party that she could text before chucking her phone across the living room when Scorpia’s bedroom burst open, sending Catra jumping three feet in the air and arching her back in the most painful fucking way. “What the  _ hell-  _ are you two wearing? Seriously? Why the fuck are you always scaring the shit out of me by coming out here in the weirdest outfits I’ve ever seen?!”

“Oh this old thing? It’s just my wetsuit from that MegaMart managers cruise I went on. I’ve been meaning to get a new one, it’s just who has time to shop these days? The Hawaiian shirt matches my visor, so of course, had to add it. Red is just really my color, you know?” finished Scorpia, gesturing to scarlet wetsuit that stopped at her knees. Catra’s mouth hung open. Her whole body stung with the fresh hit of betrayal like Scorpia flat up slapped her across the face -with her She Ra pincers- but her mind was way too fixated on the lobster shaped hat covering the other woman’s white hair to even register it. 

“Yes, I completely agree, Scorpia!” Entrapta shouted with annoying joviality. Standing right at Scorpia’s side, her insane swim get up consisted of a bright lavender swimsuit  _ under  _ her usual pair of greasy overalls  _ under  _ a giant blown up duck floaty that lay around her hips. A snorkel had replaced the safety goggles that lived on her head 24/7 and her locks of purple hair sat on her skull in two unraveling buns. Some K-Pop song was blasting on the tiny-ass bluetooth speaker hooked to her tool belt, hanging next to a purple fanny pack with a mini bottles of sunscreen and tanning lotion poking out. The fanny pack being the pique of dumbass read, “SUPER PAL TRIO.” Scorpia wore a matching red one. “This swimwear should allow us free range motion as Scorpia “mingles”- is that word you previously used?” 

“It is!”

“Oh my God.”

“Precisely! Yes, as Scorpia mingles and I conduct observations of the social interactions at Mermista’s pool party!”

“You guys… are going to Mermista’s pool party?” Catra asked, her words leaving her in a slow and dry defeat. Of course she knew they fucking were! Their dumb color coordinated outfits were too fat of a fucking coincidence for them to just jack off at the YMCA’s indoor pool on a random summer afternoon. The answer still hurt to hear coming from their mouths. A lot.

“Perfuma invited us!” Entrapta paused her baby speaker. 

“Yeah, she texted Entrapta about it and then, get this, she even asked about me! She asked if  _ I  _ wanted to come! I mean we barely know each other but the gang still thought of little old me? Isn’t that amazing wild cat?” Scorpia jumped and her fanny pack jumped with her, her happy smile a knife stuck deep in Catra’s scarred back.

_ Perfuma… Perfuma reached out and invited them? And none of those rich fucks bothered with me? Or even  _ thought  _ of me? God fucking damn it! This just proves my point. Not even the fanny pack crew is weird enough for this shitty soiree but me? I did everything right and I’m still the kitten who’s different. Who’s bad.  _

“Hey, why aren’t you in your swimsuit? Aren’t you coming? ‘Cause- ‘cause Entrapta can’t exactly reach the top of my back with the sunscreen, you know?” asked Scorpia as Catra retreated further into her pathetic fetal position. 

Catra hissed into her knees, “Why would  _ I  _ be going?”

“Uh, ‘cause you and Adora are dat-”

“Well according to my records, you’re Adora’s girlfriend! So by the laws that govern most social interactions- of course I’m not quite update to date, most of my scientific readings these days concern quantum mechanics,  _ fascinating  _ material- but shouldn’t you be invited by association?” Somehow sprinkling in a scientific term every other fucking word didn’t diminish the way Entrapta’s ramblings were just another slap in Catra’s face. ‘Cause  _ they  _ would think that, wouldn’t they? That Catra was just another one of Adora’s objects like her notebook or laptop or one billion binders dedicated to She Ra world building? Just there to further serve her career as long as her mouth stayed shut. That she just went where Adora went? Like a lost little kitten, no one and no home to return to?

“I didn’t exactly get a golden invitation like  _ some _ people.” Catra threw a dirty look their way. God, the fanny packs looked even stupider the second time around!

“I-I don’t understand,” deflated Entratpa, “there is no logical reasoning for you not to be accompanying us.”

“Yeah,” Catra turned away, “You’d think that.”

_ This is the part where you walk away. This is part where you leave ‘cause it’s too fucking messy and complicated to get involved. You leave me alone, like everyone else  _ always  _ does.  _

The weight of her mattress sunk heavy with the rejection of those depressing as fuck thoughts as Scorpia sat next to her and laid a gentle hand on her knee. “Catra, what’s going on? You’ve been in this funk for days. Is… something wrong between you and Adora? Because I have seen you like this since you know,  _ before  _ Adora. We’re worried about you, wild cat.”

“You seem to be much more hostile than usual, and much more morose” whispered Entrapta as she took over the spot where Scorpia had been standing, “at least, according to my observations.”

_ Hostile and morose. huh? If that’s who I’ve become, then I guess Adora really doesn’t bring out the best in me.  _ Catra knew she didn’t have to open her mouth. She didn’t owe them an answer- especially when it was just gonna be morose and hostile, hostile and morose- and she sure as hell  _ didn’t _ owe them vulnerability. But when she dared to look up from her scarred knees, Catra found her friends, not enemies. Friends dressed up like huge fucking dorks, but still. Friends she could trust not to ridicule her in her lowest, shittiest moments. 

“We got in a fight.” 

“ _ Oh. _ ”

“Oh dear. Catra, I’m so sorry. Wait a second, did you- did you guys break up?” stuttered Scorpia. Catra squirmed under the curiosity of her gaze, and under the heat of the hand that had settled on her shoulder- wait,  _ what?  _ Turning her neck, Catra found Entrapta standing above her, her aroma of sunscreen and pineapples (Pineapples? Why the hell did she smell like pineapples?), forcing an uncomfortable smile.  _ I don’t think Entrapta has ever willingly touched me. Fuck, I don’t think she’s ever hugged me.  _

“I-” Catra leaned her head on her knees after turning away from Entrapta. The longer Catra stared, the more uncomfortable Entrapta became, shifting her feet and squeezing her other hand into a fist. But facing Scorpia wasn’t any damn easier. “I don’t know?” she finally squeaked out, “Adora won’t stop fucking texting me. She wanted me to come to the party, but it’s so shitty and awkward ‘cause her friends will be there gawking at me like a piece of meat.”  _ A really battered and scarred piece of meat.  _

“Well you don’t want to lose her, right?” questioned Scorpia, “Especially not to those guys? I mean, don’t they hate you?”

“Thanks, Scorp.” Catra deadpanned. 

“I’m serious, Wildcat!”

“And so am I!” Entrapta’s grip on her shoulder tightened inadvertently as Catra’s nails flew to her hair. “You think I’m not fucking terrified this is the end? That I messed up too much this time and can’t take it back?”

“So why do you not go to her? Personally that would be the hypothesis I’d test first in this case.” Entrapta inquired. Catra whined. Under her lotioned fingers, she’d caught one Catra’s curls and pinned it tight against her skin. 

“Well, that is what they do in the romance movies.” Scorpia pointed out like she was pointing out the obvious. How about this for obvious: this hell where Adora and her were teetering on the dangerous ledge that led to a  _ real _ breakup while the fannypack duo gave her advice and pupteered her head with her own damn hair, was  _ not  _ a fucking romance movie. “Hey, you could do it at the pool party!”

“Ha! Yeah, and I’ll go fucking scuba diving while we’re at it.”

“I don’t- I don’t understand.”

Catra sighed, teeth sinking into her tongue and finger nails sinking deep into her palms. “Look, it just doesn’t matter, okay? It doesn’t matter if it’s fucking Bora Bora at Mermista’s place and it’s the most romantic place in the world. As long as her pissy little roommates are there, it doesn’t matter. Adora- Adora doesn’t listen to me when they’re around. She listens to them.”

_ Fuck  _ that hurt to admit outloud.

“Hmm.” Scorpia stroked her chin.

“Yes, hmm.” Catra rolled her eyes into the back of her fucking brain when Entrapta imitated her, when the two of them dragged this visual brainstorming session out for minutes on end.  _ Ugh! _ She didn’t ask for this! She didn’t ask for their help, or whatever  _ this  _ was! Catra had  _ had  _ a plan and one that wasn’t the definition of borderline: a phone on silent, a long ass nap, then a conversation where she and Adora could have a heart to heart makeup with  _ no one  _ around. 

_ This is what I get for opening up. Hordak was fucking right, being vulnerable is the epitome of weak- ugh,  _ Hordak  _ was right? What the fuck am I saying?  _

“What if,” Scorpia snapped her fingers, abandoning the weird chin stroking thing after a godforsaken amount of time, “we figure out a way to  _ make  _ her want to listen to you?”

Entrapta answered with eyes way too wide and an aggressive nod of agreement, “Oooh, I know the  _ perfect  _ thing! I have some low quality grenades I’ve been  _ dying  _ to test-”

“No!  _ Absolutely _ not!” Catra shut her down.

“Are you sure? Because I’ve got plenty here in the apartment-”

“You have  _ bombs  _ in our fucking apartment-”

“Entrapta- Entrapta, how about we table the bomb idea?” interrupted Scorpia, motioning to their other roommate to quit while she was ahead, “It’s great, uh, don’t get me wrong but in this case we don’t need to do any property damage. Can you imagine? Blowing up another party? Oh, last time was a riot. Oh sorry, got off track there. You know how I ramble! Anyways, I was thinking less we take low quality grenades to the party and instead, make Catra the high quality girlfriend Adora can’t resist.”

“Huh? What’re you talking about?” cocking her head, Catra squinted her split eyes hoping the action would help her follow whatever the fuck this brainstorming session was becoming.

Scorpia, shucking off her Hawiian shirt, dove in head first to her idea, “Adora’s attracted to you right?”

“My readings indicate so.” offered Entrapta and Catra rolled her eyes. God, how could one person’s hand be so sweaty?

“She’s always been kinda dumb that way.” muttered Catra into her knees.

“Don’t say that wildcat! I’ve seen the way she looks at you in the apartment when you’re not looking!” Scorpia knocked her knees in a vain attempt to be supportive in the face of her roommate’s massive self-esteem issues. But when all she got in return was an empty, unimpressed look, Scorpia continued “Seriously? You’ve never seen her do that straw thing?”

“Ah, the straw thing phenomenon.”

“‘Cause I’ve never  _ not  _ seen her do the straw thing whenever she’s here. It’s actually kind of unnerving to watch. That’s why I started avoiding the apartment whenever she’s here and there’s drinks around.”

“That’s fascinating that you’ve observed the same behavior, Scorpia! I was wondering if you have made yourself sparse in the last couple of weeks. I find the straw thing phenomenon to be quite indicative of rising arousal. I’ve made studious observations about it for my writings about sexual attraction, I’m thinking about proposing coauthoring a paper with Bow since he insists he’s  _ also  _ a scientist-”

“What somebody  _ please _ tell me what the fucking straw thing is!?” Catra shouted, her curls flying up as her rage moved through and animated her body as her stiletto nails dug back to their familiar place in her bed.

Entrapta broke her rapport with Scorpia to explain, “The ‘straw thing’ phenomenon as I am proposing to name it, is whenever you and Adora are sharing an apartment and there is a soft drink Adora is drinking-”

“Yeah, ‘cause you guys usually order dinner to eat while you work.” Scorpia filled in.

“Yes, and whenever you get up for whatever reason, Adora watches you. Impressively, she almost never blinks. Instead, her eyes follow you and she chews on her straw. It kind of reminds me of a rabid animal. Catra, do you think Adora has rabies-”

“Okay, okay!” Catra threw her hands up. Jesus fuck, since when were her roommates peeping toms like this? And how had she  _ not  _ noticed? Even the mere thought of being watched by Entrapta out her welding mask from a crack in Scorpia’s bedroom door while Scorpia ate popcorn above her head made Catra both insanely fucking nasaeous and almost relieved that Adora’s little squad avoided her enough to not notice weird arousal habits like chewing on a straw. “I get the fucking picture. Adora’s attracted to me or- or whatever. What the hell was the rest of your plan?”  _ I cannot believe I’m indulging this. I was  _ supposed  _ to be taking a fucking nap. _

Nodding, Scorpia started off again, “Since we know Adora’s attracted to you, why don’t we use that? You go to the party and show off, you know-” Catra’s roommate started shimmying, gesturing to her own torso until Catra grabbed her wrist mid movement. 

“Stop doing that.”

“Sorry. But my point was, if you go there and remind Adora what’s she missing, she’ll come running! And then you can get her alone to talk! If it helps, ‘Trapta and I can run offense and make sure her roommates don’t bother you guys!”

“Now  _ this  _ is an experiment!” cheered Entrapta.

Catra scoffed, throwing her head back “Okay, so your genius plan is for me to whore myself out in front of Adora and all her little “friends” so that whatever arousal response your guys’ “data” says she has will magically kick in and she drool her way over to me?”

“Well when you put it like that, and put all those words in finger quotes, it does sound… weird.” Scorpia rubbed her neck. A blush the color of her wetsuit spread up her neck and over her face, rubbing Catra’s heart the wrong way.  _ Okay, yeah. She didn’t deserve that. I get that she’s just trying to help. _ Kicking her roommate’s leg, she sent her a tired grin.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you guys trying. But I already decided I’m not going, so. For once, I’m actually gonna do the mature thing and not make a scene in front of all those dumb Bright Mooners. I’m gonna go by later. Hopefully she won’t be too mad about the party to talk to me.” explained Catra. As the words left her tongue, she knew they were the right ones. It wasn’t like her to take the high road, to take a path so unsteady and unfamiliar, but hey? Maybe all this good person work was for something after all. 

_ Just lose this battle. Win the war, win Adora.  _

“So if Scorpia and I, say,  _ were  _ to attend,” Entrapta dragged out each word of her response, “would that trigger unpleasant emotions?” 

“Yeah, cause we wouldn’t want to upset you. ‘Cause, uh, we won’t go if it will make you upset. I mean, we’re the Super Pal Trio! We gotta stick together!” Scorpia pumped her arms up in faux excitement, elbowing Entrapta into getting pumped up too, but Catra didn’t buy it for one single second. They were trying- through their brand of typical dorkiness- to be good friends by making the ultimate sacrifice of giving up the pool party in Catra’s name, and that spoke to her typical pettiness. The "if I don't get to have this then no one fucking does" part of her she'd been working her ass off to terminate. And it looked like it was working, 'cause just the idea of telling them to take off their insanely comical get ups and wash off all that tanning lotion (aw, adorable pale gringos) made Catra’s stomach turn inside out with guilt that burned her like acid. Who was she? The fucking Grinch stealing their first real Christmas? Yikes. Besides, this conversation about Adora was help enough. Invasive as fuck, but again, that was on brand for them. They paid their dues. It was time she paid hers. 

Scoffing with no venom in her voice, Catra shook her head. “I’m breaking the Super Pal Trio up for right now.”  _ And I’m not letting you read the She Ra manuscript again until Adora promises to stop coming up with stupid shit that  _ I  _ have to say to be a good friend, Mary Mother of God.  _ Their beady little eyes lighting up with excitement, Scorpia and Entrapta braced themselves. “You guys go without me. Knock some shit over in front of those Bright Moon turds for me.”

“We can call ‘em B.M turds for short.” winked Scorpia as she nudged Entrapta once again.

“That’s very clever. Because B.M stands for Bright Moon, but also stands for-”

“Go!” Catra interrupted Entrapta, gesturing towards the door and biting back a smile, towards their front door.

One aggressive hug that left a solid bruise on her ribcage from Scorpia and a spazzy wave from Entrapta later, Catra’s two roommates were ushering each other out the door, Entrapta’s speaking once again blasting some K-Pop band as she whispered “Just in case Mermista does not provide any, I have tiny food in my fanny pack!”

“Oh!” Scorpia buzzed, “I also packed you some tiny food in  _ my  _ fanny pack just in case they didn’t have any, what a coincidence.” Falling back on her pillow, Catra rolled her split eyes. At this point, it was a straight up miracle she wasn't feeling a familiar pulsing in her brain that only promised an incoming onslaught of pain. “Hey, on the bus, would you mind putting sunscreen on my neck? For some weird reason, my arms just don’t wanna bend that way.”

The door slammed shut. Hair standing on end for one second as the shock of the noise spread through Catra’s body, she gripped her pillow and hissed. “Finally, some goddamn peace and quiet.” As much as she could stand indulging the fanny pack twins, entertaining their antics was the coffee-and-shower equivalent of curing this bitch of an emotional hangover. ‘Cause that’s all this had been; a feeble distraction for her tired body and brain to cling to while it struggled to purge her system of any mention of Adora. Dating Adora, getting lost in all she was and being just stupid enough to believe it would last more than a cruel summer, was the equilavent of slamming tequila shot after tequila shot until the selfish dick bartender cut her off for “her own good.” What did that idiot know about her own good? What did anyone  _ who wasn't her _ know about her own good? Wasn’t destroying herself up to her and her only?

“Could use some fucking tequila right now.” whined Catra into her pillow. Now that the certified Party Crashers had made their grand exit, Catra was face to face with her last task before she could black out for a sweet couple of hours: dropping the bomb on Adora that she wouldn’t be blessing Mermista’s pool party with her presence. And as she stared a hole into her phone, Catra figured downing a bottle of tequila would make doing so a whole lot fucking easier. “Too bad there’s not any in the fucking apartment, Scorpia!” she let out a crescendoing growl in the direction of the door. 

_ Just do this, you baby,  _ the thought pounded into her brain like her unforgiving conscience was beating her with a hammer,  _ lose the battle. Win the war.  _

Taking a shaky breath, Catra whisked up her phone and unlocked it only to see her screensaver, a picture of Adora cuddling with Loo-kee that struck like a knife to the heart. But she ignored the dull pain in her chest and moved to check her notifications. But there was nothing waiting for her. No texts, no calls, no voicemails. No tempting fate. 

_ Lose the battle. Win the war. This is just a quick easy text. Send it and be done. _

That’s what Catra was counting on. She was counting on her tectonic emotions not to slide out from under her, to provide her stability just long enough to open her dumb message app, to hold fucking still. She was counting on sending a text that looked half-assed but was the complete and total opposite. A half assed text whose fallout she could prepare herself for. What Catra  _ wasn’t _ counting, what she  _ wasn’t  _ prepared for, was her nail slipping across the cracked glass of her screen, missing the messaging app al-fucking-together, and landing on her Instagram shortcut. 

“Fuck- no! I don’t want this- Are you  _ shitting _ me?” Her spine snapping against her scarred skin, Catra sat up to glare at her screen and the ultimate betrayal. Turns out Instagram was not only gonna open against her will, it also had a little present for her. A really fucked up present. 

The first thing, the  _ very  _ first fucking thing because the universe decided what Catra needed next was a kick in the tits, was group candid of the  _ Best Friend Squad  _ \- fucking disgusting, she owed the Super Pal Trio an apology- Sparkles front and center in their state-of-the-art living room. She was flashing her perfect smile on her incredibly punchable face right smack dab in the living room, Bow throwing up a thumbs up behind her in bright blue swim trunks and t-shirt that read “Being Cis was the Phase .” Adora was tucked away in the corner of the frame. This creative photo taking robbed Catra of her girlfriend’s swimwear (jesus, they were  _ fighting,  _ why the hell was Catra sitting here chewing on her lip wondering if it was a bikini or a one piece and whether or not her muscles were being honored by the outfit) and Catra couldn’t help but suspect that little cherry on the top of this shit sundae was on purpose. Fuck, she suspected this whole Instagram stunt was on purpose. 

_ “Getting ready to parRRRTTTYYY!” _ Sparkles’ superficial caption read, followed by a vomiting of emojis that assaulted Catra’s eyes one after the other.  _ “Pool party with my BESTIES is the best way to end Summer! #bestfriendsquad #bestsummerever! @thearcher_bow @princess_of_lesbians @mermsitathemermaid @everythornhasarose @iceicebabee @bi_pirate420” _

Teeth drawing blood from her tongue, Catra was careful that her finger did not make contact with the screen, that “liked by jaragui_ink” didn’t show up on her screen.

“I think…” Catra said through gritted teeth “I owe Scorpia an apology.”

Because Scorpia’s plan of manipulating Adora’s sexuality against her by exploiting Catra’s own as some sort of passive aggressive warring tactic could  _ never  _ top this slice of life candid Sparkles just dropped. Everything-  _ everything-  _ from cropping Adora out of the photo with the exception of her bandaged arm to framing herself front and center, to capitalizing BESTIES as if this was some VSCO girl aesthetic trip, was one hundred percent done by design. Catra of all people would know considering that’s how she got through her late teens and early twenties without pulling a Selena.  _ The  _ Master master manipulators had made her life hell but not without teaching her their twisted ways and it was a fight  _ every single fucking day  _ not to play people like the dumb kazoos Weaver and Hordak taught her they were. 

Eyeing the red Hawaiian shirt Scorpia had left behind, Catra bit down on the nail of her thumb. Maybe ‘Trapta and Scorpia were right after all. Maybe it was time to dust off that knowledge, to crack her knuckles, and show Glimmer what an amateur she truly was. 

Catra dropped her phone on the bed and reached down, knowing what her dangling hands would find. The bikini was right in the pathetic place she’d dropped and abandoned it. No longer did it make her dizzy with dissociation to see it’s charcoal fabric, to imagine it the slippery slope to cold water forced down her throat and her lungs filling at a deathly slow pace with chlorine, because that photo-op had given Catra the key to bypassing her fear. Anger. It had made her  _ so _ fucking angry that Sparkles and Rainbow were on the other side  _ her  _ girlfriend’s pretty little head with their battle plans to win this fight like it was some round of a scheduled game night. And that anger, that spit fire and spite, was all she needed to strip off all her clothes and expose all her skin and all her scars under the revealing nature of the bikini. 

Screw winning the war. This  _ bad  _ kitten was winning the battle  _ they  _ incited, even if it meant her own watery extermination. 

Once dressed to kill (or dressed to die), Catra reached for her phone again and found it laying on her pillow. She was gonna need backup, since the fanny pack crew was gonna be too occupied by kindness and the magic of tiny shrimp cocktails. She was gonna need someone who took her commands and didn’t question them, threw knives where she directed them. As she threw her curls back into a wild pony tail with an old hair tie left by Adora in her bed, Catra found her target in her contacts and hit the green button next to their listing. 

“Girl, you better have a good reason for calling. If something else happened to my baby-”

Catra didn’t wait for a pause. At this point, she didn’t give a damn and she didn’t give a fuck if everyone else knew that. “I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Does it matter why? There’s free fucking booze, you in or not?”

“Baby doll, you know don’t have to ask twice.”

“Good.” Catra stated, ready to hang up when she remembered one last and extremely important detail. “Oh, and wear a fucking swimsuit.”

_

“Adora, you ready?”

“Huh? What? Oh. Yeah, I am.” bolting up from where her head rested on the searing leather steering wheel, Adora whirled around in a panic frenzied towards the backseat of the car to find Bow sitting there, his seatbelt undone, sending her a warm smile. 

“Okay,” Glimmer, her belt also undone as she sat in the passenger seat, pulled the mini-cooler that had been riding along in her lap closer. All the packed food that had _previously _been in the cooler was now laying at various places on top of Angella’s sleek and shined dashboard, waiting for Glimmer to return them to their chilled home. “Just going to double check one more time and _then_ we can go in. We have the crudite, the coconut wrapped shrimp bites and the _vegan _coconut wrapped shrimp bites, the bruschetta, jalapeno poppers for Sea Hawk with the ghost pepper hot sauce- idiot- stuffed mushrooms, the shumai-”

“Uh, Glimmer, I think you got it all-”

“Don’t  _ rush  _ me, Bow! Last year I forgot the crab cakes and I never lived it down! I’m a  _ chef,  _ Bow, when I cater, I cater  _ hard.”  _

“Okay, okay, I wasn’t coming on or anything. It’s just, Mermista’s pool is kinda of calling my name-”

“The mini cheddar quiches, the spicy egg rolls, and the brie, okay that’s all for this cooler. Bow, are you  _ sure  _ the beef tapa and the banana lumpia is the cooler in the trunk?  _ With _ the crab cakes?” Glimmer twisted in her seat to glare at their roommate and Adora let out a yawn.

“Yes, Glimmer. And the cupcakes, the mini cupcakes,” Bow started counting off on his fingers, “all the stuff for halo-halo, the leche flan, the cheesecake  _ and  _ the brownies.”

_ And no cinnamon rolls,  _ Adora lay her head back down on the steering wheel, her heavy eyelids a cautionary tale of how much sleep it was possible to lose over  _ one  _ person. Glimmer’s famous cinnamon rolls- a popular sell at the bakery and a hit with all their friends-  _ was  _ on the list of dishes the chef/baker was going to make for the pool party before the incident with the tattoo needle and Adora bleeding all over the kitchen sink. Afterwards, Adora noticed the penciled word erased from Glimmer’s BB-8 notepad on the fridge. It was just a random choice, a decision that didn’t correlate, Adora tried to tell herself, tried to coax herself into not obsessing over small details. But it was next to impossible not to when such small details spoke in the loudest volumes. 

Glimmer and Bow’s support over the past few days echoed in her head like a cacophony; a solid reminder of what she was here to do and what she had to prove. Consistent as their advice had been, it was confusing in the way that it kept her standing and moving forward, but never soothed or silenced Adora’s spiralling worry. 

_ “There,”  _ Glimmer had smiled as her fingers smoothed the bandage she had just finished applying over the cut on Adora’s arm, the cut left by Catra. “ _ It’s good I had the first aid kit out for Bow, right? I always seem to have to use it when  _ she’s  _ around.” _

In that moment, Adora couldn’t tear her eyes away from the white of the fabric bandage. The bleeding, excessive and scary in its amount given that Catra had pierced an artery with her needle, had stopped like she wanted. So why did she want to see it white sullied by red, to see a promise of pain that was real?  _ “I think I messed up, Glimmer. Like, really  _ really  _ messed up back there.” _

_ “Are you kidding, Adora? You’re not the one who flew off the handle and stabbed someone.”  _ Glimmer had shook her head and planted her hands on her hips.

Because Glimmer had never known the girl who skinned her knees on the sidewalk when she pushed Adora down and Adora took her down with her, because she had no knowledge of the broken bones or school nurse trips, it was easy to understand that to Glimmer, this was the worst thing Catra had done. And that she had done it to cause deliberate pain, not to express emotions no one had bothered teaching her to express. 

Adora skinned her knees right along side Catra, healed from broken bones caused by Catra, had the shards of a teacher’s coffee Catra threw at her in a jealous rage pulled out with the nurse’s tweezers while Catra sat by her crying tears of an apology. This hole in her skin was nothing if not the words Catra didn’t know how to say. Adora got the message anyway. 

She wasn’t doing enough for Catra, for their relationship. No, that wasn’t it. She just wasn’t  _ good  _ enough.

_ “Do you- do you think she’ll talk to me again?”  _ Adora had bit into her lip. It was numb and swollen by that point.  _ “I was thinking of going over there tonight to say sorry-” _

_ “No, don’t do that!”  _ protested Glimmer, grabbing Adora’s numb hand and squeezing with a force.

_ “Why... why not?” _

_ “Because you didn’t do anything wrong, bae!  _ You  _ invited her to the party and she got upset! That’s not on you! If anything, she should apologize.” _

“ _ So I shouldn’t go over there? But I want to fix this! Letting this stew, letting  _ her  _ stew… seems backwards to me.” _

Adora’s thought of that moment came back to her ringing like little bells.  _ If I wait for Catra to be the bigger person, I’m gonna be waiting until I’m dead.  _

_ “Glimmer’s right, Adora.”  _ Bow had added from his place on the couch. _ “You shouldn’t go over there. Don’t teach her that she can just do bad things and get away with it, Adora. That’s not good for you or her.” _ Surprise had smacked her across the face when he spoke; Bow of all people Adora had suspected to be for going to Catra’s apartment and laying all her weapons down. That was the mature thing to do, so why was Professor Heart-to-Heart on the 180? “ _ You should probably avoid texting her, too. Or calling her, for that matter.” _

_ “Wait, why not?”  _ Adora froze in her seat. That was her last arrow in her quiver. How could they just not expect her to fire it?

“ _ Adora, you gotta block out all contact so she gets the message. Remember Dua Lipa’s three rules! One: don’t pick up the phone. You know he’s-” _

_ “She’s!”  _ corrected Glimmer, jumping in with both to finish the rest of the lyrics, “ _ drunk and alone. Two: don’t let  _ her  _ in, you know you’ll have to kick her out again. Three: don’t be her friend-” _

The rest of the spoken lyrics Adora blocked out as she turned away from them. As much as she understood the advice they were lifting from the song, this was not an area she knew how to navigate. Adora didn’t know fights (or worse, breakups- but that’s not what this was! It couldn’t be! She wasn’t… she wasn’t ready yet.) like they did. Free of any traumatic burden, Bow and Glimmer were free to navigate dating as most normal genzenials did, their baggage made small in the shadow of Adora’s. They had their fair share of partners, relationships, heartbreaks and fallouts. They didn’t listen to  _ “thank u next”  _ by Ariana Grande and wonder what it meant to not be hung on the ghost of a separation (and maybe that’s why  _ they  _ didn’t sob whenever they listened to all of  _ Red  _ by Taylor Swift- well Bow, to be specific. Glimmer said she’d eat glass before listening to a full Swift album and this comment had on more than one occasion gotten her kicked out the apartment.) Glimmer and Bow had been through this enough times to know what to do and how to do it, Adora  _ understood  _ that, but… she still didn’t like the thought of Catra drunk and alone. 

To keep Catra off Adora’s mind and her obedience to Lord Dua’s rules stout and true, Glimmer promised their swimsuit shopping extravaganza would no longer be just the search for new swimwear, but a full on celebratory girl’s day. “ _ After we pick out new suits we can get our nails done and maybe go to Sephora-” _

_ “Without me?”  _ Bow had cried out in shock.

_ “And then we’ll definitely have to go out to lunch ‘cause I’m definitely going to be cooking the rest of the day.”  _ It’s not like Adora could turn her down. The confusing state she was stranded with Catra meant she probably wouldn’t be coming over the next day to finish a scabbed over to Loo-kee. So Adora put on a forced smile and nodded her head, earning a suffocating hug from her roommate. The pressure of her arms squeezed some of the anxiety out of Adora’s ribcage and the tormented worry in her took a step back, “ _ Oh this is going to be so fun! You won’t even think about Catra, I promise bae!”  _ cheered Glimmer. Bow, despite his onset vertigo and disappointment he’d be the odd one out for their adventure, stood up and joined in, his hand landing square on Adora’s shoulders. In their arms, she took a deep breath, enjoying the way tension drained from her muscles for the first time since Catra slammed that door. She could get through this.  _ They  _ could get through this, together.

Adora didn’t sleep the first night. After convincing her two best friends she could be trusted with her cellphone ( _ “I won’t break the rules, that’s a promise.”  _ she lied through her teeth and the fib stuck to Bow and Glimmer like glue. Hmm, looks like some habits left from her time in foster care weren’t the breakable kind.) she paced the night like a ghost, rotating through the roulette wheel of her emotions as the moonlight glowing past her curtains turned into sunbeams. She didn’t even try to bury herself under the covers. Nope. That was a futile battle she didn’t have the tools to fight. In place of sleep, Adora walked up and down the perimeter of her room, untying her ponytail and tying it up again, unlocking her phone to find her many texts unanswered as rage flared in her lungs. 

_ Is it possible you’re coming onto strong? Or that she’s sleeping?  _ Adora scoffed at her own train of thought.  _ “Catra doesn’t go to bed until at least two and has the audacity to lecture me about taking care of myself! And if she just  _ answered  _ me I’d stop. Ugh, maybe Glimmer was right. I’m doing everything I can and dumb Catra won’t give me anything! Why did I have to fall in l-”  _ Adora had stopped that sentence by throwing her hand over her mouth and keeping it pressed there until her treacherous lips were numb. Sliding down her bedroom wall as her phone fell to the floor, Adora chalked the slip up to her sleep deprivation. They weren’t going there tonight, when she and Catra were fighting and everything was about to shatter and it both was and wasn’t her fault. But still her brain taunted her:  _ why do you think you’re fighting for this so hard in the first place? What was that last text? Like number 24? _

Her allnighter was no help in tossing her accidental use of words out the window and despite Glimmer’s vow that Catra would be nowhere in her thoughts, Adora found herself coming back to her in her head as if she was home base throughout the next day. Questions beyond her true feelings fired rapidly-  _ Why hasn’t Catra texted me back? She’s not the ghosting type! She’s the dump-gasoline-on-your-car-and-light-it-on-fire-type! Hell, why hasn’t she just deleted my phone number? It’s says she’s reading my texts! Does she feel bad at all? Why didn’t I just go over there last night? Why did I listen to Glimmer and Bow? I could’ve smuggled a cinnamon roll past all those bug sprayer people, right? Ugh, why does Catra hate them? Why do they hate her?-  _ never allowing herself to let go for even one single second. Ruminating never gave her an answer and rarely a solution. But why fight her nature when it couldn’t hurt, right? It’s not like she had more to lose.

_ “Can I ask you something?”  _ Adora found the words slipping out her mouth as she stood half naked in a changing room at Target, her bare feet struggling to find the leg hole of the next swimsuit Glimmer picked out for her. The suit was the fourth or fifth- she’d lost count and had almost fallen asleep putting one on- selection because the simple red one Adora chose was “basic” and “made her look like a lifeguard.” The one she stood wearing as her own words echoed back to her in the small space was just the opposite; a bright, brilliant white one piece, the straps and top a shimmering gold that rained down the rest of the fabric. It hugged her curves and muscles, dipping into a V right at her chest. Again her thoughts flickered back to her girlfriend- or  _ ex  _ girlfriend she was to scared to say- and what reaction this would elicit. Adora’s eyes closed for a second and she pictured Catra smiling, her teeth flashing as she giggled before tackling her. God, she’d give everything to see Catra smile again.

_ “Sure!”  _ replied Glimmer from the stall next to her.

_ “Why do…”  _ Deep breaths, _ “why do you hate Catra so much?” _

A sigh reverberated through the small dressing room, Glimmer’s stall creaking open, “ _ It’s not that I hate her.”  _ Okay, not a great answer. Not a great start, either.

_ “Then what is it? I want you guys to get along,”  _ Adora yawned, swinging her own door open. 

_ “It’s-”  _ Glimmer looked down at her feet,  _ “don’t hate me for saying this, Adora, but ever since Catra showed up, you never seem to show any interest in anything else!” _

_ “What are you talking about? I still hang out with you and Bow all the time! It’s actually driving Catra crazy.”  _ she tried to protest in response, but Glimmer’s cutting eye roll stopped her from going further.

_ “Oh great, let’s add jealousy to the pile. Seriously Adora, you spend so much time with someone who’s pretty much unstable.” _

_ “She isn’t-” _

_ “Oh she’s not? Look what she did to you! Your arm is bandaged like you’re some wounded World War II soldier! I’m just supposed to approve of someone who stabs you because she’s upset?”  _ Glimmer asked.

_ “Glimmer, let go of the tattoo thing.”  _ Adora had sighed to no avail, _ “It was an accident.” _

_ “And I get that, or whatever, but it just confuses me. You have flashbacks, panic attacks,  _ flesh wounds,  _ all the time since she showed back up! Plus, she has  _ no  _ idea how to conduct herself.” _

_ Don’t bring up the couch incident, don’t bring up the couch incident- _

_ “Our couch  _ still  _ smells like bleach because of her!”  _ Glimmer threw Adora a look,  _ “Look, I know she’s important to you and all, but at what cost? All she ever causes you is pain.” _

_ “She doesn’t-”  _ but the excuse caught in her throat, the revelation beating against her veins until they threatened to burst. Was that true? Was Catra  _ bad  _ for her? No! That couldn’t possibly be it; Adora was smarter than falling for a flight risk. If anything,  _ she  _ was the flight risk. Still, fear wrapped its fingers around her throat, squeezing as she fought to ignore the logic that Catra’s jagged edges and broken parts were cutting her. Could the person she thought to be her muse really be a poison, killing her slowly and sweetly? Catra was a walking trigger for her PTSD and anxiety; from the way she burst the dam that kept Adora’s memories intact and held them back where they belonged to the uptick in quiet panic attacks that stole the air from her lungs and wore down her heart. Blink back in the dressing room, and Adora would be looking not at some cheap store mirror, but Mara’s rearview, watching as eleven year old Catra screamed and cursed her leaving name. Blink, and Catra’s shadow would look like Mrs. Weaver’s. Catra made Adora feel equal parts angel, and monster.

All this time, all these months, Adora had worried her presence in Catra’s life would be an invitation back to her self destructive ways when really, Catra never once seemed bothered- she never even seemed to  _ notice- _ by the wreckage she caused in Adora’s.

_ “I don’t say that to hurt you Adora. And maybe I’m wrong, who knows? You’ve known her longer we have. But the Catra I know, she hurts my  _ best friend.  _ And I think it’s okay for me to hate, or not like or whatever, anyone who hurts my best friend.”  _ rubbing Adora’s arm, Glimmer’s expression fell apologetic before lighting up, “ _ That swimsuit is  _ killer,  _ Adora! Totally She-Ra. It’ll be perfect for Mermista’s.” _

Tired of trying on different shades and styles- and of this conversation- Adora surrendered and ended up purchasing the She-Ra suit. It’s not like it mattered anyway. Nothing mattered in this torn state of love and resentment, unable to land on what was the right way to feel and whose feelings were the right ones to spare. 

The second night she stumbled defeated without changing into PJs or brushing her teeth or brushing her hair straight into her bed, the leftover crust of salt drying out her skin as she tossed and turned in her sheets between intrepid anger and sadness that lay crushing her lungs. Again, no texts or calls or voicemails returned or even acknowledged. Adora was being full on ghosted and Catra didn’t care. Catra couldn’t even throw her a bone.  _ Glimmer’s right, she’s just causing you pain. If she wants to fix this, then  _ she will  _ fix this, I will not be reinforcing this behavior,  _ one voice in her head echoed. But the other, the one that was letting desperation leak into her texts, begged  _ please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me when I feel this way about you. _

Right before passing out into a merciful slumber around three in the morning, Adora wiped a fresh onslaught of tears from her eyes and looked at her phone to see she had gotten a response. A response packed with bitterness and classic spite (Adora was so relieved to hear from her that she almost let her off the hook for the attitude) but a response still. 

_ Catra J (beautiful gf) 3:00 am _

_ fucking FINE adora! jesusfucking christ if i go to this dmb rich people party will let me go the fuck to sleep!?????????????  _

It took the will of every single cell in her body not to hit her reply button. Somehow, and for several different reasons, she managed to abstain. For one, Adora wasn’t sure at that point lying in a pile of snot and tissues and half way through a bottle of melatonin that Catra deserved a response. Might as well show her the other side, the cruel side of getting ghosted and let her think that maybe for once, Adora was the one who didn’t care. Adora was the one, this time around, who wasn’t giving a flying fuck. That  _ she  _ was the one living her best life  _ without  _ Catra, just like Dua Lipa in all her music videos!

And it was that thought, the idea that she could live a life not tied to Catra, that granted her her next plan. “Glimmer and Bow are right. She hates my friends for no reason, she pokes me in the arm instead of just telling me why she’s mad-”  _ she watched a TV show I really like just because I like it, she helped me achieve my dream, no! Not going down that road! She gets to be angry  _ all  _ the time, why can’t I be angry just this once?  _ “I’ve done things for Catra! I’ve  _ helped  _ her and what does she do? Ignore me for three days straight? Ugh! I’m done reinforcing her tantrums!” exclaimed Adora, punching the pink pillow next to her with a huff. Vowing to show Catra exactly this the next morning by showing her everything she was missing, everything she took for granted, just out of her reach on the other side of Mermista’s pool, Adora finally abandoned her phone to its charger and fell into a deep sleep that was broken until Bow dropped a baking sheet of crab cakes on the kitchen floor. 

It was a good thing Adora had this come-crawling-back-on-your-knees direction towards her (ex)girlfriend when the sound of pan reverberating through the apartment shocked her awake. Because going down to tell the captains of the Anti Catra squad their most favorite person in the world was showing up at their long awaited pool party without revealing in any way that she’d broken the rules was no easy feat. Adora was no prodigal liar, but she was learning how easy it was to turn those survival skills back on in a whim. Something, or  _ someone,  _ was bringing that out in her. 

_ They’re dumb and shiny and easy to trick,  _ Catra’s voice imitated her thoughts.  _ And what Bow and Glimmer don’t know won’t hurt them… _

Of course mental Catra was right, damn her and her sexy voice that wasn’t even real! They bought her lie, hook, line and sinker, just like the psychological manifestation of her (ex)girlfriend said they would, and Adora both hated herself and Catra for it. In the hurry to finish all the food for the party (“Glimmer, this isn’t a real catering order! Can you please chill and come put some sunscreen on?” “I have a reputation to uphold, Bow! Besides, I don’t burn, I’m not Adora.” “Just because you’re not pasty-” “Um,” “doesn’t mean that you can’t sustain sun damage long term. Melanoma is  _ much  _ scarier than not having enough guac dip for everybody.”) and then put on the FDA approved amount of SPF 100 as per Bow’s approval, Adora’s roommates took the news of Catra’s party crashing in stride, much better than she thought they would. On the catch that it was Adora who had been doing the ghosting, not getting ghosted. 

“So Catra texted me last night,” Adora chose to interrupt when Glimmer was occupied with massaging the gloop of sunscreen Bow wasted half a bottle for on his neck. “She’s coming to the party.”

“Oh? Does this mean she wants to talk? It’s good she’s coming to you and not the other way around.” Bow’s got out his mangled words as Glimmer kneaded her fingers into the top of his spine.

Adora feigned a smile of agreement. “She’s just coming. I doubt she’ll want to talk things through.” she admitted. This much was true; as busy as she was with her own plan of attack Catra’s endgame had slipped her mind. Catra was coming and she was coming to play cat and mouse, no doubt. Catra never played fair and this time Adora didn’t see why she had to either. What good were the rules when they never won you the game? “I was thinking… about what you guys said, about Catra. You’re right, I don’t want to keep reinforcing this behavior but I do- I do want to talk to her. If it’s over then I deserve a straight answer, and -and an explanation. Do you guys think you can help me pretend I’m living my best life? You know, to show her what she’s missing out on? Maybe she’ll come talk to me if we can, I dunno, make her jealous enough?”

_ Yep. That’s my plan. Use Catra’s own unstable emotions against her will. Wow, I’m desperate and kind of a monster- but, but she deserves it if she’s gonna treat me this way! This isn’t turning the heat up in the bakery, I deserve a real conversation!  _ Adora’s fingers curled into her sweaty palms.

“Duh, we can!” Glimmer jumped down from the couch and Bow rubbed his neck. 

“Uh, why not? What could possibly go wrong?”

“I have so many ideas, ugh I’m gonna have to call my Aunt Casta later and tell her all her lessons in passive aggressiveness paid off. That woman is a guilt machine.” Glimmer informed them, ignoring the obviousness of this fact. How many itchy wool sweaters had Adora sweated through at Detario family events she got invited to because she couldn’t dare hurt Glimmer’s aunt’s fragile feelings? Adora winced. Okay, maybe this was a bad idea and she should call it off. Aunt Casta’s passive aggressiveness could be a gateway drug to Mrs. Weaver’s straight up abuse. “But Casta’s methods usually work whenever I’m dealing with shit like this. This is how I got Brittany to dump me to my face, _ and  _ how we got Antoni to go to that symposium with Bow. Catra will come running back to you by the time I’ve exhausted all my aunt’s spells.” winked Glimmer.

Adora didn’t have time to back out or even ponder reconsidering in the midst of trying to get Mermista’s; between Glimmer barking orders about the food, Bow changing his outfit three times- “Glimmer wants to take a picture for Instagram! I’m not showing the world anything sloppy.  _ I’ve  _ got a reputation to uphold.”- Glimmer messing with Adora’s outfit, and Angella showing up ten minutes after she promised she would to apartment with her car only to lecture them for half an hour about the powdered donut incident and then fighting with Glimmer about talking back to her, they ended up an hour late to the pool party.

Now here they were, sitting idle in the long winding drive-through of Mermista’s mansion having made it through her carded gate, the adrenaline keeping Adora awake at the driver’s seat draining from her system as Glimmer packed the rest of the plastic bags snug in the cooler. Adora yawned again with her head on the steering wheel. The tag of her new swimsuit was digging into the skin of her back, rewarding her with an itch she couldn’t scratch, and all the water proof makeup Glimmer suggested she wear sat dry on the skin of her face. She rubbed her rubbery lips together as Glimmer zipped up the cooler with a “Ha! It’s all there!”

“Yay,” Bow said dryly, “Can we go swim now?”

“In a sec! Adora, you good to go? This is gonna work, okay?” Glimmer reassured her, her hand brushing the big tan bandage that now lived on Adora’s arm (it was also waterproof) before squeezing her hand. 

_ Then why do I have this terrible feeling it’s about to backfire? That I’m acting stupid and emotional and irrational and I’m going to lose her. Hmm, Catra gets to act all stupid and emotional and irrational. It’s not fair that I’m the only one who cares!  _ Adora’s mind settled into a destructive pout as if she were a child robbed of her favorite toy. She just answered, “If you say so, Glim.”

“Trust me!” her roommate cheered her on, “We got the picture on Instagram and I bet it’s already working it’s magic.”

“Catra doesn’t really use Instagram.” 

“That’s why I also put it on Twitter. And Facebook. So, you ready?” Glimmer looked up at her with wide, expectant eyes.

Taking a shaky deep breath, Adora turned back to the steering wheel. How strange it had been to be in the driver’s seat after so many rides as a passenger. As a passenger, Adora was not in charge, rather submissive and complicit. Submissive in the way she let Catra have everything she wanted just to keep her there. Complicit in the way she let things just  _ happen  _ to her, never having become anything beyond that scared and anxious little girl in Mara’s passenger seat, turning around as she was told and forced to say goodbye to her best friend in the reflection of the mirror.

Adora bit her lip and tasted the pink water-proofed lipstick given to her to make her look strong, in control, and keeping it together  _ without  _ Catra. To show the world she didn’t need her (ex)girlfriend. To make her look like she was in the driver’s seat.  _ I hope this past week of lying has made me better at it, ‘cause I’m really gonna need it. _ She popped down the overhead visor and found her ocean eyes staring back at her, kissed by mascara and golden eyeshadow. This was the face of someone who  _ wanted  _ her relationship to work. To be in a constant state of fighting, bending and breaking with Catra was her idea of hell.  _ Especially  _ when she- yeah.

Playing dirty was a  _ massive _ gamble. Seldom had it worked in her favor short term, from her scheme with the leather jacket to calling Catra out in the cat cafe. But Adora was choosing to play this hand because it was in the long term where things came together, and it was long term results Adora was putting her money on. She wasn’t going in there to fight with Catra, to play dirty just for the sake of getting down and dirty, for the sake of hurting feelings just to hurt. In this weird convoluted way that involved a face full of makeup and lightly curled hair that fell above her shoulders, Adora was going into that party to fight  _ for  _ Catra. 

By playing dirty because  _ fuck it  _ she couldn’t take this anymore. She couldn’t do this anymore, she couldn't take being away from her for one more painful second.

“I’m ready,” Adora affirmed. Smirking in the mirror, she flipped the visor back up. “Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do y'all hate me yet? next chapter you will.
> 
> jk, jk! The next chapter has some really, really fun stuff! Lotta Sea Hawk and Mermista shenanigans, as well as a certain drag queen. But I would mentally prepare yourself.
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta SheraRen. I literally could not have done this without you, and I'm so grateful you were hyped for it cause it kept me hyped!
> 
> I would LOVE to hear your thoughts! 
> 
> also, as promised, here is your Brooklyn 99 hint for the sequel: [x](https://www.google.com/search?q=brooklyn+99+99th+episode&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwig-La3gePnAhUGYawKHZGYBDAQ2-cCegQIABAC&oq=brooklyn+99+99th&gs_l=mobile-gws-wiz-img.1.1.0j0i24j0i333.3992.8204..10158...2.0..0.137.2264.0j19......0....1.........41j0i5i30j0i8i30.uFoIa1K29OY&ei=GP5PXqCMEIbCsQWRsZKAAw&bih=800&biw=1280&client=tablet-android-att-us&prmd=insv#imgrc=iStIkg8TP2DwyM)
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://princessofgayskull.tumblr.com/)


	4. afterglow (why'd I have to break what I love so much)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mermista throws her annual pool party at the end of the summer, Adora sees an opportunity to further bring Catra into her life. But in the light of her glittering lives of her rich and beautiful friends, Adora unwillingly outs some Catra’s deepest insecurities, exposing a crack in their relationship. And when she pressures a sensitive spot within those insecurities, what started as a rift becomes a crack. 
> 
> If Catra and Adora can’t put their pride aside, they’ll lose everything they’ve built together. And if they can’t stop listening to the opinions of everyone else, then they’ll never be able to listen to each other. Can they meet beyond this conflict and come together in the afterglow?
> 
> A fight and makeup fic in three parts.
> 
> part 2: why'd I have to break what I love so much?
> 
> “All you ever do is cause me pain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said that I was gonna post the chapters in weekly succession back in February and now it’s April?
> 
> Well, welcome back after almost two months. As with every story, there are always unpredictable things that come up, but I am so grateful for the patience and support that has been shown for me and this story. You guys were very understanding of when I needed to step back and take a little break, and you waited patiently without berating me. Many of you on tumblr helped me so much that you guys are the reason this story is going up at all. 
> 
> Because of this long wait but also your support, I’m posting two very long chapters back to back and that’ll be the end of afterglow! We’ll move on to one last one shot before moving to cruel summer, the sequel. 
> 
> TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS: (this chapter ends a lot like chapter 8 of uws where Adora has a flashback of the water heater incident) c-PTSD, child abuse, alcohol, alcohol use, alcohol dependency, gangs*, racism*, cancer*, drowning, drowning scare, suicidal ideation, PTSD flashbacks.
> 
> *mentions of
> 
> Please, PLEASE, take care of yourself and read at your own risk. I love you guys too much for you to put yourself at risk.
> 
> PLOT DISCLAIMER: It’s important to keep in mind that Catra and Adora are both trauma survivors and deal with different types of mental illness (both in canon and in this universe) and as someone who deals with both, I had that reflected in narrative and the style, but that does not mean I condone their actions or their mentalities (or that said mentalities will stay this way in this universe). This is merely a means of exploring emotions and a story I wanted to tell, not a way of morally prescribing what someone should do in their own relationships. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> As for any little plot discrepancies, suspend your disbelief for the next chapter or two and I promise things will be so much easier for the both of us. <3
> 
> Hope this fic finds you staying safe and taking care of yourself physically and emotionally. Once again, thank you x 100 for the support and patience you have shown me on tumblr! 
> 
> Let’s dive in.

“-give that baby one last twist and shake, for dramatic effect of course, and ta dah! The perfect daiquiri!”

“Wow, just  _ wow!  _ I mean personally I’ve always wanted to try my hand at mixed drinks, but now I’m thinking that I might not have the flare for it. You on the other hand, you’ve got  _ real  _ talent there, mister.”

“Why thank you, Miss, um… miss-”

“Scorpia.”

“Of course, of _course, _Miss Scorpia. Not that I actually forgot. I was merely bluffing! The great Sea Hawk would _never _forget the name of such a fair lady-nay, never!”

“Jesus Christ,” Catra whispered under her breath. Wondering how the hell she ended up in the company of the president of Pirate Comic-Con, she slid her crystal class across the faux bamboo of the bar. “Hey! Refill that.” she barked, taping her nails against the wooden surface as the glass hit Sea Hawk’s hand and he winced. 

“Uh- uh, as you wish,” Catra’s eyes could not roll far enough back in her head. “A-another Old Fashioned, coming right up.”

_ Balls, this is boring. When’s Princess and her crew gonna show their dumb faces?  _ Three Old Fashioneds since Catra pulled her Toyota Camry into the pristine limestone driveway of Mermista’s mediterranian mansion (which for eight-fucking-thousand square feet of house was tucked away and hidden by lake that had “Private Property” written all over it, literally, and therefore  _ not  _ easy to locate; the gual of these rich idiots) dragged her dirty boots through the stale white interior and planted her ass in one of the pomfrond seats by the bar, and Adora was still a fucking no show. Jesus, how long had it been? Forty five minutes of this hell and high water?

Forty five minutes staring out of the corner of her eye at the wide stretch of aqua-marine and the white hot beams of sunlight reflected across its shimmering surface, reeking of all the salt from the stupid filthy ocean (‘cause “it’s a salt water pool, they’re like  _ way  _ better for your skin than chlorine, so”) and Catra’s certain death.  _ Try not to think about, hell why do you keep  _ looking  _ at,  _ Catra asked herself once again, blowing hot air out through her nose.  _ Really fucking hard not to when Entrapta splashes me everytime her and her dumb snorkel come up for air. _

Mermista’s infinity pool in all its flashy, obnoxious wonder-seriously the whole thing was overkill- was the complete and total opposite of Hordak’s rinky dink backyard one. It turns out that bastard was loaded for all the cash in the entire state but not for taste, big fucking surprise, and the differences were like fucking night and day. For starters, Mermista’s giant luxury statement of a pool ate up the whole east side of her backyard, so much so that it was practically the beginning of a river, taunting Catra’s phobia of water in the most twisted and fucked up way in its positioning over a cliff hanging right over the goddamn lake. Decorated and adorned by a set of jagged boulders on the south end, and shimmering array of tiles from which protruded a whole ass swirly slide on the north, the watery death trap was also currently housing a volleyball net. All Hordak’s had was a broken water filter and an attached hot tub probably filled to the brim with STDs.

_ Ugh, fucking Hordak.  _ Guess she wasn’t tipsy enough yet at this terrible party to start blocking memories of that asshole out.

Catra’s foster “father” was nothing short of the king of the block, and his two story man-cave was the best house on the street. As a teenager, Catra had morphed back and forth between prisoner and warden of the place, the apple of Hordak’s eye and future matriarch of his crime family to mouthy little brat who would learn her place cleaning up his two year old’s spit up and changing his diapers. Hordak was a ball-less coward parading around under the guise of a god-complex, unable to kick her to the curb because he was as dependent on her as he made her believe she was on him, and so in Catra’s memories the house, like the rest of her childhood, turned to smoke in was nothing short of a mansion in that podunk shit of a town. The only house in the neighborhood to have a pool wasn’t a sign of Hordak’s riches. It was a sign of how he choked and extorted money, property, and the lifeblood out of every other subservient household until owning a swimming pool was nothing more than a pipe dream. 

Like most of Hordak’s toys, none of the foster kids were allowed near the backyard pool or the adjoining hot tub. Bastard had eyes everywhere and would know if so much as one toe was dipped in. But God, looking back as she sat in front of what kind of an oasis  _ real  _ money could buy, Catra understood just how much Hordak cheaped out.  _ Now  _ his pool reeked of chlorine. She could still smell the putrid air it gave off as it evaporated in the Arizona heat, even here under the Bright Moon sun, salt water from Entrapta’s latest venture towards the surface dripping down her exposed legs.

The pool wasn’t the worst fucking thing about being confined to Hordak’s home. Shocking. Despite Catra’s suffocating fear of the water it housed and the fate it seemed to promise, the death trap was easy enough to avoid and not an active member of what was sure to become her beloved c-PTSD. That was, until Charlie’s first swim went totally wrong. Little shit. No, Catra could remember even in this slightly tipsy state sitting cross legged on that pool deck, her sketchbook open and unguarded in place where no foster kids, whores, or criminals could make unsolicited, idiotic comments. Before Charlie came along and ruined Catra’s life by making her his full time teen nanny, she’d pull the beat up library books on anatomy and figure drawing and follow them to T, sketching along as Hordak tore up the den ‘cause he wasn’t winning his stupid and pointless custody battle and had to take it out on the house. The swimming pool scared her shitless; Hordak on the rampage was that much more terrifying.

Of complete and opposite energy from the monster who tore up all their furniture, there was the man who came to clean the pool everyday. Catra only saw Hordak use the pool once for a party his lowbrow gang threw- a party that nearly  _ destroyed _ the goddamn house, left it trashed for weeks, and resulted in a rotting smell she swore to this day was left over dead guy chum in the grout- yet still the mobster had the pool cleaned each day of the week. Like yeah, they lived in the desert and shit was dusty but every freaking day? Felt like overkill to Catra, and she knew that was exactly the point.  _ What was that guy’s name? The guy who cleaned the pool?  _ Catra curled her tongue in her mouth against her teeth.  _ Juanito. God, he was like seventy years old. And smelled like it, too. _

Juanito would come by, his trusty blue net at his side, every afternoon and caught Catra drawing/hiding from her caretaker on more than one occasion. As he skimmed the pool, he’d try to drum up conversation, about her art, school, boys (that one never stuck), whatever made the most sense for an angry, frothing fifteen year that let punk throw up all over her. Juanito couldn’t speak a word of English, like most of Hordak’s help, and wasn’t Catra’s first pick of company. But because none of the other kids who spoke Spanish at her dump excuse of high school would ever give her more than a dirty look or a dirty gesture, her foster father’s house staff- the maids, his car mechanics, the pool cleaning guy- were her spare opportunities to speak in the language of her mother. So as guarded and furious as she was and had every right to be, Catra threw Juanito a bone. Just to remember what it was like not to feel so isolated and so lost and so  _ fucking  _ lonely. 

_ “My niece is a painter,” Juanito would always tell her when Catra allowed him a glimpse of her sketchbook “She’s very talented and even has her own studio up in Phoenix. I visit her every summer. Do you paint?” _

_Fuck did Catra want too. She would without hesitation, but the school’s only art class had cut her freshman year so that they’d have a teacher for a remedial class for their at-risk students. Also for funding for the baseball team._ _“No. I can’t afford it.” _

_ “Maybe one day?” _

_ “Maybe.” _

_ Right then, a bang sounded behind her, the glass of the window reverberating. Juanito almost dropped his skimmer. “What’s wrong with him?” _

_ “Hordak?” Catra raised an eyebrow, “Someone said “no” to him.” _

No one ever saw her talk to the old guy, not her foster siblings, not the spare strippers hanging around out of boredom, not even Hordak himself. But somehow, the bastard  _ always _ knew, and once Catra got for herself a good, traumatizing look at the pool Juanito cleaned every day, she never saw him again. Never heard him ramble on about his wife or his prized backyard garden. Never heard him hum out-of-tune conjunto melodies again. As punishment for letting his prized possession toddle into the deep end, Hordak took away one of Catra’s only real friends. Juanito and his trusty pool skimmer were replaced by a crass white lady, the kind that turned her nose up at Catra’s presence. She didn’t ever sit on the deck to draw again.

_ Wonder if Mermista and Sea Hawk have a Juanito,  _ her thought entrenched in bitterness rung in her head as Catra looked out over the shimmering blue and the game of volleyball taking place in its waters,  _ wonder if they give a shit about him at all.  _

“One Old Fashioned, for the lovely Catra! On the house, of course.” Sea Hawk’s booming voice broke her dissociative state in half and she sent him one hell of glare. Pretty easy considering his stupid fuckboy outfit made Catra want to choke his neck with his own ascot. That would teach him a)  _ he  _ didn’t get to talk to her like that, they  _ weren’t  _ friends (Sparkles and the rest of the Seasame Wall Street puppets made sure of that) and if he went any farther with the attitude they were gonna be enemies faster than they were gonna be anything else, and b) people don’t get to just walk around showing off their disgusting chest hair via their unbuttoned white shirt or wearing the  _ ugliest _ pair of Ralph Lauren swim trunks Catra had ever fucking seen. The vomit-worthy combination of mustard yellow and pine green should be considered assault; Catra should get to sue this Gucci-impersonating bastard for attempting to assault her!

“Fucking finally.” she threw it back and the tiny blue umbrella Sea Hawk insisted on sticking in her cup hit her smack in the eye as she swallowed. The burn crawled down her throat, the harsh flavor beating her tongue, but she didn’t even blink. With Adora not here, there was no purpose for Catra to be lounging at some made up tiki bar listening to Sea Hawk amaze Scorpia (like that was a fucking challenge) with the fakest fucking stories about bar tending during his semester abroad Greece. With Adora not here and with their relationship on the chopping block, the only left for Catra to do was drink the free liquor until Jackass Sparrow had the brain cells to cut her off. His head was so far up his own ass that Catra suspected she had plenty of more Old Fashioneds before they got there.

“Jes _ us _ , Catra. What’s that, like your fifth one? Slow down,  Patrón , they’re not shots.”

“ _ Fuck,  _ I wish they were.” Catra slammed the glass down. Damn pirate wannabe had all the ingredients for a Bloody Mary to whatever the hell was a eucalyptus martini had in it (Scorpia ordered one and Sea Hawk wouldn’t shut about for five god damn minutes) but not a single fucking bottle of straight tequila. Why was Adora friends with these people? Why would Adora make her chase her to a place where she was forced to drink fucking  _ cocktails  _ of all things? “Get off my ass, Marshmallow. I’m going through something.  _ And  _ I invited you, so  _ maybe  _ shut the fuck up.”

“Alright,” her backup shrugged and took a long, annoying sip of the organic (yeah,  _ organic) _ Pina Colada she’d been nursing this whole time. All the elongated and dense slurping had Catra dragging her nails down the bamboo bar and begging her beating brain to just explode right then and there. She was beginning to regret bringing Marshmallow along in the first place. But what other choice did Catra have besides dragging the drag queen- who followed Catra’s strict orders of putting on a swimsuit but then forced her to stew in the car for twenty five freaking minutes to go through her waterproof makeup routine and acrylic nails before walking out in a suit that was more thong than swimwear and floor length fake fur coat white as snow- to this shindig where the only people who gave a damn about her were currently snorkeling the infinity pool for “scientific data” and drinking eucalyptus martinis? What choice did she have now that Adora had basically tied her hands behind her back? 

“And then I said to this man, who was twice, no thrice-no!  _ Frice  _ my size! And I looked this hulking brute in the eye and I said to him, in a low yet still  _ very _ sexy voice,” Sea Hawk was telling a wide eyed Scorpia, leaning on his elbow as he lost himself in his own epic (lie), his voice dropping down to enhance this stupid narration, it all made Catra want to puke “‘My good sir, you must back away from these children. They’ve done nothing wrong! In fact, you are the one who popped their football!’ Now, this was Brazil so I remind you they call what we call a soccer ball, a football.”

Scorpia nodded in feverent agreement, “I know! And it’s like, why do we do that you know? Everyone else in the world calls it a football! It makes total sense because you kick the  _ ball _ with your  _ foot.  _ They don’t kick the ball in American football! It’s absurd!”

“I agree most wholeheartedly, lobster lady! We should adapt and be like the rest of the world. Compared to the places my lovely Mermista and I have traveled in her eco-legal dealings, I can tell you, fair lobster, that America is not with the times!”

“Hmm, yeah.” Scorpia took a sip from her martini and scratched her chin, “but then what would we call football, here? Ha, eggball?”

“Precisely!” championed Sea Hawk.

“Catra, I take it back. I do thank you for inviting me,” Marshmallow said before taking another infinite and infuriating slurp, “This is definitely better than watching cable at my house.”

“I’m in hell,” Catra pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes.

_ WHAM!  _ “Ow!” _ Splash! _

“Crap!” came Mermista’s voice from the pool.

“Perfuma!” Frosta shouted out in concern.

Intrigued by the sound of someone in pain (look, she was really bored, okay?) Catra peeked through her fingers to find a disoriented Perfuma coming up for air, the volleyball floating around her in a circle. “Wha-” the ditzy florist reached to wring out her hair, “What just happened?”

“Mermista hit you in the face!” Frosta yelled over the net and Catra cursed inwardly.  _ Fuck! I missed that? Ugh, what was the point of coming to this idiotic waste of time if they’re not even gonna get what’s coming to them. _

Yeah, it was a nasty thought. Here was one that was even nastier: if those princesses wanted karma to work out in their favor, then maybe they wouldn’t stare at her like she’s some total freak of nature. Catra saw how Frosta, Mermista, and Perfuma looked at her. She didn’t miss the looks they exchanged as she walked on by to the bar, straddling the line between looking like a fucking chicken by walking on the complete other side of the yard and walking too close to her living nightmare, and she caught the words they whispered to each other under the guise her back was turned, “Catra’s here?” “I didn’t know we invited her, I thought she was coming with Adora.” “What’s Catra doing here?” 

So it served them right to end up with a volleyball impression on their pretty, perfect faces.

“Okay yeah, this isn’t working.” Mermista shook her head as Perfuma wobbled, the strap of her floral bikini top slipping down her tan, freckled shoulder.

“Told you we didn’t have even teams.” added Frosta.

“Yeah, Entrapta like, isn’t even playing.”

“She’s uh-” sighing and looking around, Perfuma twirled in the water trying to find where Entrapta swam off to study the rock grain at the bottom of the pool. When Entrapta came up on the other side of the net from where she stood, Perfuma’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, she’s too busy for this. Maybe we should get someone else?”

Shrugging, Mermista turned to face the bar. “Does one of you wanna come play volleyball?”

“You can be on my team!” Perfuma practically sang.

“Ooh!” Before Catra could even gag at the suggestion and assert she’d rather claw her own eyeballs out to the sound of Seahawk singing Elton John karaoke tracks than get in the fucking water to throw a ball around, Scorpia slid from other side of the bar straight into the perimeter of Catra’s personal space, “So I know I said all that stuff earlier about coming here to be a good friend and backing you up so you could talk to Adora and work things out-”

“Wait, is that why you’ve been at the bar this whole time?” Catra narrowed her eyes, trying to worm her way out the heat Scorpia radiated. Either it was the five Old Fashioneds or plain guilt, but the idea that Scorpia was wasting her day off flanking her didn’t sit well in Catra’s stomach.

Her roommate nodded, eyes shining, “Mhmm. I told you I’d have your back. But I was kinda hoping to get a little partying in and you know, get in the pool and all. I mean, don’t get me wrong I’m  _ loving  _ this eucalyptus martini. Like,  _ who  _ knew that you could put that in a drink? Koalas would  _ love  _ this stuff!” Catra blinked. “Yeah, um, anyways I was just thinking I could tag in for Entrapta and be on Perfuma’s team? It’s okay if you want me to stay here, though-”

“Go play volleyball Scorpia,” Catra deadpanned as her roommate lit up like a freaking Christmas tree, “Adora and her dumb friends aren’t even here. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Scorpia’s eyes flicked to Catra’s empty glass and back, and Catra bit down on her tongue.

“Look, I’ll slow down. But I don’t need a babysitter, okay? Just try not to drown.” 

“Oh thank you, Catra!” Scorpia’s larger than life hands squeezed Catra’s shoulders, “I’ll show those B.M’s what the Super Pal Trio is made of! And the  _ second _ Adora walks into the party, I’m there. I am  _ here  _ for the plan!”

“Fuck if Adora’s even coming.” growled Catra. Guess the woman she always gave shit for not being too bright had the right idea to ditch. Adora was probably reading one her dumb books or watching Brooklyn 99 at home in the air conditioning like a  _ sane  _ person. Meanwhile, Catra was wasting away under the summer sun, sweating up a swamp under her tits, and watching Frosta get a “water wedgie” -her words, not Catra’s- and Perfuma get absolutely wasted by a volleyball by Mermista’s strike was the exact fucking opposite of she had wanted to spend her afternoon off. Whatever, at least she was getting buzzed.

Giggling with excitement, Scorpia ditched Catra and her half drunk margarita at the bar, and got a running start for the water. “Coming in, guys! CANNONBALL!”

“Holy-”

_ SPLASH! _

Blinking, Catra opened her eyes to find her legs covered in water. “Son of a bitch,” she moaned. God, the whole point of not sitting  _ anywhere  _ near the pool was she wouldn’t get wet! Course Sea Hawk being the attention hog he was had to set up camp five feet from the fucking edge. Didn’t anyone ever tell him booze and pools  _ didn’t  _ mix?  _ These assholes better know CPR or they’re gonna have a serious lawsuit on their hands. Actually, watching one of these dumb-dumbs try and give mouth-to-mouth might actually make this whole trip worth it. That’d be fucking hysterical! _

“Wow, the lobster maiden has quite an impressive cannon ball.” Sea Hawk’s words had Catra rolling her eyes back in her head again as she shook her leg off and brought it closer to her chest.

“Her name is  _ Scorpia. _ ” It took every sense of what was left of her sobriety not to add douchebag to the end of that sentence no matter how much he totally deserved it. Seriously, Scorpia corrected him like ten times! And as polite and civil as she was, it went over Captain Douche’s head. The fucking nerve. “And she’s not into-”

“What? Dashingly handsome adventurers who’ve traveled the world and can make a margarita rimmed with flammable salt? And then drink said margarita  _ while  _ it is on fire?” Sea Hawk perked up and asked. 

Right know the last person Catra wanted to think about was Adora, fuck, forgetting her girlfriend was the whole reason she was trying to get shitfaced, but she couldn’t help but let the thought slip out the her girlfriend’s characterization of this dude was on point in She Ra. Like to the fucking letter.

“Well I was gonna say men but randos into pirate under-roos works, too.”

“Uh, these are Ralph Laurens that Mermista’s uncle bought me last Hanukkah.”

“They’re a nightmare, is what they are!” Catra slammed her fist down on the bar, flashing her teeth. “Now get me another Old Fashioned!”

“Uh, yes- yes ma’am. Right away m-ma’am.”

_Ugh, _what_ I am doing here? _Catra wondered for the millionth damn time watching Sea Hawk scurry to his shelf of ingredients, her heart taking no please in watching his nervous hustle like she imagined it would. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She wasn’t supposed to feel so fucking empty without Adora. She’d always thought she was tougher- _stronger- _than needing someone. _Especially _someone like Adora. _I thought getting drunk would be enough but nothing ever is!_ _Adora’s not even here and she gets the upper hand. Like she _always _does. Shit! She never even texted me to say that she changed her mind and that this wasn’t worth her time… that _I _wasn’t worth her time. What, after sending 300 texts 301 is overkill and desperate-_

“Hey-o, pool party peeps! The Best Friend Squad is here!”

“And we brought food!  _ Everyone’s  _ favorites!”

_ -are you  _ fucking _ kidding me? _

Oh, that was  _ just  _ what Catra needed to hear right now! Sparkles’ and Rainbow’s stupid preppy voices to add to her already shitty day, shitty week and shitty life! Son of a  _ fucking  _ bitch! 

“Oh it looks like Bow and Glimmer are here,” Sea Hawk remarked, setting Catra’s drink down in front of her, this time adorning it with a red umbrella as her eye twitched. Refusing like the stubborn child she was to give them the satisfaction of turning around, Catra slammed back the drink and made sure to roll her eyes. The attitude was a farce. A show. A defense. Because no one, not a single fucking soul, could know how she was dying just to inch a little in her seat to see if Adora came with them. To know if Adora came to fight, to play, or if she was an even bigger pussy than Catra was. 

_ Jesus Christ, Jauregui. Don’t put pussy and Adora in the same sentence. _

“Are those those kids from the hospital?” Marshmallow. “You know, the ones who showed up with your little girlfriend when you crashed my car in a ditch.”

“Shut  _ up _ , Marshmallow.” 

“You crashed this drag queen’s car?”

“ _ Ugh. _ ”

“Do we just set up here at this table?” Sparkles voice rang in Catra’s ears and she forced her eyelids shut. “It’s uh, it’s a little small.”

“I told you they weren’t expecting a full catering order, Glimmer.” Bow told her. 

“We can get another table,” said Frosta. “We can put it by the bar. You know, the one that you guys  _ won’t _ let me drink at-”

“No, that’s fine!” Adora’s best friend’s words cut like little pieces of glass in Catra’s back because apparently Glimmer was too good for a knife. And subtly. Jesus fucking Christ, how  _ stupid  _ did these people think she was? If Catra had set up shop by the bathroom she swore none of them would take a piss all day. “I think here is better for easier access from the pool. I mean, that’s where everyone is gonna be all day.” 

_ I’m gonna kill her. I’m going to fucking kill her.  _ In Catra’s hands, the glass almost shattered in the force of her grasp. Good, then Catra would have a murder weapon. One deserving of the Queen of Bright Moon, who took pleasure in broken things.

“Um, okay.” was Mermista’s dull response. “Frosta, would you, like, mind going to help Adora get another table. There’s a few in my dad’s garage. They all look the same, so you know.”

“Fuck me.” Catra growled under her breath. So Adora did show her face in this grand game of chicken. Adora was here, Adora was here in a  _ swimsuit,  _ Adora was here with Bow and Glimmer. Not Catra. The glass began to tremble in her hand.

“Actually, Adora. Why don’t you stay here with Glimmer? I’ll take Frosta to the garage so I can sneak a talk about the dangers of drinking without a fully developed brain.” 

_ Like any of these dipshits had “fully developed brains.” When is Bow gonna stop humping his psychology degree? _

“I mean, I’m  _ nineteen _ ! As long as you guys don’t tell my parents, I could have a beer! Or at least a Seven and Seven!”

“Uh, where do you want me to put the cooler Glimmer?” Despite the unrelenting force of her fingers around her empty glass, it wasn’t the glass that broke at the sound of Adora’s voice. It was Catra. Her eyes flew open in a blatant betrayal, and her neck started to turn, as if her body was just drawn. The solution to the withdrawal that hung her out to dry for days was standing a few feet behind her, asking where to place some cooler because this was a party, not a reunion. Not a place to surrender her pride and her stubbornness, leave it behind at this lame tiki bar and run straight into the arms of the cure to her emptiness.

“Anywhere’s fine, Adora.”

Catra could barely breathe. Her lungs were too full of a chaotic cocktail of emotions- a violent, nuclear reaction in her cells of anger and sadness and loneliness and stubborn pride- for her to do more than bite her canines down into her lip. There was no god damn way she missed Adora this much. Three days! It had only been  _ three  _ days! No way was she that  _ weak. _

Was she?

“Oh, okay.” 

_ I can’t! Fucking! Take! This! Anymore!  _ Her resolve drowned by this slap of a realization that she  _ missed  _ her girlfriend (how the hell was she a functioning human being?) Catra let herself turn around and look. She just hoped as she turned her neck that she was tipsy enough for what she was gonna see.

“Holy shit.” the expletive escaped Catra’s bleeding tongue.

Because what she was gonna see- apparently- was Adora standing there holding a full ass blue cooler like it weighed absolutely nothing. That was the first thing Catra noticed. Her heart aching against her ribs, a burn in her throat worse than any alcohol could induce, she memorized the sight of Adora’s bare arms flexing under the cooler’s load, gleaming gold in the sun. Speaking of gold, her hair was down and lightly crimped (What? Was Glimmer treating this whole fight as an opportunity to live out of all that middle school sleepovers she definitely missed out on? How  _ cute. _ ) and it was sending Catra. One second Catra was determined to keep her eyes shut out and go back to the dark, the next she couldn’t stop staring at the light.

“Damn, Princess Adora went all out. Kitty Cat, how badly did you fuck this up?” asked Marshmallow.

_ Really, really badl-  _ “Fuck off, Marshmallow.”

“Do you think that’s real gold on her swimsuit?” the drag queen continued instead of fucking off like Catra asked her to.

“Pfft.” Catra scoffed. “I wouldn’t put it past her  _ or  _ Sparkles.”

“Wonder if it was expensive.”  _ Slurp. _

“I imagine real gold would be quite heavy.” the bartender lurking behind Catra added.

Oh, now Sea Hawk was gonna add his two cents to Catra’s growing tab of misery? Fucking fantastic. Didn’t he have any place to be?

“Oh, I think that girl can handle the weight  _ just  _ fine-”

“Okay, would everyone just  _ shut  _ up?” Catra demanded, dragging her stiletto nails down the bar. “Your dumb comments aren’t fucking helping.” 

Sea Hawk and Marshmallow shared a look of concern- because apparently they were  _ best buds  _ now, leave it to everyone she knew to make friends with these assholes except her- but Catra couldn’t give a damn. She was too busy choking on her own panic.

Glimmer and Adora didn’t just come to play, they had come to  _ win.  _ That was the only reasoning that explained why Adora waltzed into Mermista’s spacious backyard wearing the  _ sexiest  _ fucking swimsuit Catra’d ever seen. Course it was only that gorgeous ‘cause it was on  _ Adora;  _ the girl looked fucking stunning in PJs. A soft white that put Marshmallow’s coat to total shame with straps and front showered in a golden glimmer that tapered off, Adora’s swimsuit made her look like the goddess among men that she rightfully was. Combined with her statue-esque figure (damn that stupid novel of hers for being finished and damn Adora for using her new free time to work out more) and absence of the iconic ponytail, the get up- however weaponized- was going to put Catra in a goddamn coma.

_ Is she wearing makeup?  _ Catra squinted her eyes as Adora set the cooler down and took the top off like she was opening a freaking can of soda. From wear she sat on the outside, Catra could still see the basic lip gloss- mascara- eye shadow (about all Adora’s shaky hand was capable of) combo decorating her face and a new feeling of unique hurt slapped Catra across the other cheek. 

God, how long had it been since Adora put makeup on? Catra was aware she wasn’t comfortable in it; hell, anyone could tell by the way she pawed and prodded at her face when it wasn’t clean and simple like she liked it that makeup was just another pair of heels Adora couldn’t walk in. The Adora who wore makeup and heels was the Adora who rode in her backseat. And in the backseat, Adora was faraway from Catra,  _ safe  _ from Catra or any risky possibility she represented. Catra was probably the last damn person who should be lecturing anyone about having walls or armor that kept people away, but Princess Perfect and her smeared eyeliner were no exception. Adora had walls, Adora had ways of protecting herself and keeping people from getting to close,  _ just  _ like Catra did. 

The suit. The hair. The makeup. They were walls Adora had put up that had signs all over them that read “NO CATRA.” Because the square bandage that sat on her forearm was what happened when people like Catra got a little too close.

_ I  _ get  _ it. I’m a bad person, I don’t deserve Adora.  _ The bitterness Catra swallowed in her mouth wasn’t left over from alcohol.  _ You’ve made your point, Princess. Rather fuckingly publically.  _

But still Catra let her foggy mind wander without consent or permission; what  _ would  _ happen- hypothetically- if she got up right now and dragged Adora by the arm to the living room for that heart-to-heart Catra’d been saving for later tonight? Could they end this painful stand-off and actually enjoy this dumb party? It’s not like Catra could ask in her politest, most civil tone to talk to her girlfriend in private with Sparkles chaperoning at a five foot radius and big brother Bow not far off. Obviously. As for the fit Adora would throw by being strong armed-  _ literally-  _ into hashing things out in private like actual grownups, Catra figured she could manage that if being the bigger person meant getting Adora back. 

_ After that I can go fucking home. _

“Another Old Fashioned, Catra?” Sea Hawk asked from behind the bar. Hand still choking her empty glass, Catra faltered in her answer as she continued watching Adora unload the cooler and her grip loosened. All this booze be damned if they could just get past this stupid stalemate. In finding within her- deep,  _ deep  _ within her- the maturity to fix what she broke, sobriety didn’t sound like complete and total hell to Catra. 

Except, Catra didn’t get to shoot Sea Hawk down and tell her to fill her glass up with some water, sans tiny umbrella this time. Right as she moved to get her ass out of her seat, to take her wobbly feet back to her heart’s home, Catra’s split eyes watched as Sparkles came around to Adora’s side and grabbed her arm. Adora, that _bitch_, dipped down to let her _best friend _whisper something in her ear.

_ Probably something about me. _

And that thought was enough to drown in, to suffocate in the realization that _Adora _of all people would stoop to such a low level despite all her promises. Adora’s golden laughter rang throughout Mermista’s backyard and what had once healed Catra like ambrosia cut her down to her barest broken bones. No amount of alcohol, no amount of sleep or pain she could distract herself with was ever gonna bring her back from the fact that Adora was _laughing _at her. How could she? Catra understood that she messed up, okay, she was _fully _aware of what she did wrong, but how could Adora let Glimmer reduce what was an excruciating fight between the two of them and the two of them alone into a type of petty mean girl drama just to satisfy some personal lack of popularity? How could she, after _everything_ they’d been through, after the vulnerability Catra had sacrificed to be near her and the growing pains of letting her back in, the risk she took triggering herself _day after day, _and for what? Because she thought Adora would somehow be worth it? Well look where that fucked logic got her.

For all of Adora’s big talk about it being different this time around, history was repeating itself. Adora was over there soaking in the limelight of a spotlight and the support of ride-or-die friends and Catra was over on the other side, alone, forced to watch from the barrier of distance as Glimmer held Adora’s arm and Scorpia stayed in the pool talking to her new friend Perfuma.

“Yeah,” Catra tried to lace her response with false strength and forced boredom when she slid her glass back to the bartender, “Keep ‘em coming.”

_

Adora’s fingers were beginning to get pruny she’d been wallowing in the pool for so long. Sorry, not wallowing, standing her rightful ground. Well, swimming her rightful ground.

After the food spread was sufficient enough to Glimmer’s picky liking (and Frosta’s approval; she went straight for the crab cakes, smart enough to appreciate said appetizer was on the menu this year but not smart enough to keep from bringing up last year and invoking Glimmer’s wrath) Bow took a running stance and in a pompous move of challenged the three of them to a race. “Whoever’s last is cleaning the fridge so we can stick all Glimmer’s leftovers in there!”

“Oh, you are so  _ on,  _ Bow!”

“Hey! No running!”

Ignoring the way their little foot race made Mermista’s old LifeGuard training kick in, Adora took off in a sprint ( _ Show off the goods Reign,  _ she had told herself,  _ show off the goods and work that jealousy)  _ for the darkest blue of the water and right before hitting the last stretch threw her body up into a tight spin, landing her flip in a violent splash that put Bow’s entrance to shame. The shock of cool liquid enveloping her skin as her legs kicked out to steady her and her straw hair turned to gold thread was the first time since walking out onto Mermista and Sea Hawk’s patio that she had escaped a certain cutting heat aimed in her direction. Adora counted to ten there under the water before opening her eyes to a blurry blue image of so many pairs of legs, and let the air in her lungs out in a long exhale of bubbles. Then, as she came up for oxygen, Bow’s instructions from the earlier car ride came back to her.

_"Ooh, you should do that thing where when you come up out of the pool, you come up like a model_ _and throw your hair back!” _

_ “And then run your hand through your wet hair. That’ll drive Catra nuts. Even though she’s you know, not that far off.” _

Adora didn’t get to intercept the attack on Catra’s (rightfully) unbalanced mental health because the resident psychologist-to-be beat her to the punch with a handful of backwards validation.  _ “Yeah, the wet hair thing!”  _

_ “Uh, why are you on board with this Bow?”  _ she’d scoffed in reply, stuck there with them at a red light,  _ “I thought you’d be against playing games with someone like this, especially someone I’m dating! Where’s my prepared lecture or- or graded quiz on mindfulness and acting on rationality instead of emotion?” _

_ “Yeah, well, those things are good to keep in mind… but is it bad if I kinda want revenge for what she did to my bed?”  _ When Adora sunk lower into the hot leather of her seat, Bow protested in response  _ “Hey, therapists aren’t perfect people, Adora!” _

_ Yeah. You don’t have to tell me twice.  _

Trusting their strange yet cruel intuition (and maybe she wanted to be cruel, maybe she wanted incursion that cut as deeply as those split eyes tearing her apart molecule by molecule) Adora broke through the surface and as soon as the air touched her face, she arched her back like she was told. Then, her legs treading beneath her, followed up on the second part of the plan and ran a shaking hand through her wet hair. Her ears were still a little clogged with pool water, but the sound of clapping did make it past the obtrusion. 

“Wow,” Perfuma shot her an amazed smile, “I got… completely soaked but it was worth it. The only flips like that I’ve ever seen are from Mermista.”

“Yeah, and I was a champion diver who went to nationals,  _ twice,  _ so color me impressed.” Mermista added on with a wink. Adora would’ve taken the compliment in stride as she swam under the volleyball net and to the shallow side, but she was too busy dodging the knife that was her girlfriend’s roommate’s stare to put any thought to the way she’d shown off.  _ Why is Scorpia here? Ugh, she just  _ had  _ to outnumber me, didn’t she? Entrapta, Scorpia,  _ and  _ Marshmallow? Well if she thinks she can intimidate me with a drag queen- a really mean drag queen, that is- she better be ready to put her money where her mouth is. _

Adora blinked, eyes squinting in Scorpia’s direction but the other woman didn’t so much as draw breath. For a few elongated seconds, her ocean eyes dared Scorpia to draw the weapon of her words and fire something back cruel. Something out of Catra’s book.  _ C’mon Scorpia,  _ itched Adora,  _ just yell at me! Just yell at me so I can yell back, and Catra will get off her stupidly sexy ass and then yell me at me! And then I’ll drag her away because I don’t wanna make a scene, and we’ll talk. In private. And we’ll  _ fix  _ this, and having her back will fix me. So c’mon Scorpia,  _ Adora almost screamed as her hands turned to fists under the camouflage of the water,  _ make a damn scene! _

But there wasn’t going to be a scene anytime soon. Adora realized that after glaring her down only earned her a sustained forty five seconds of silence. Maybe Scorpia was daring Adora to draw her own weapon out in the open and prove everything Adora  _ knew  _ Catra said about her. Or maybe Adora was reading into- overthinking, really- what was really just a simple intimidation technique that was not going to give her the satisfaction of the real, claws out brawl she so desperately craved yet so desperately wanted to silence her desire for. So Adora blinked, and toes reaching the smooth stone bottom of the pool, she looked around for her own ride-or-die to get her out of this mess.

She caught Glimmer’s eye and gestured by the swerve of her neck to Scorpia. Her roommate nodded, giving her a dramatic roll of her eyes that couldn’t help but make Adora snort.  _ Okay, maybe I  _ can _ do this without making a scene.  _ She told herself as Glimmer made another face. As long as Glimmer and Bow were here to hold her up, there was nothing she couldn’t do. That  _ they  _ couldn’t do.

“Are you guys gonna play volleyball?” Frosta asked, coming for Adora’s internal monologue from out of nowhere, her head barely poking out from the surface of the 5 foot area. “‘Cause we could really use you Adora, now that they have Scorpia.”

_ No kidding. _

“Hey,” Perfuma broke away from Scorpia’s side ( _ Perfuma and Scorpia _ ?  _ Hanging out? _ Adora wanted to giggle,  _ when did that happen _ ?) for a moment to object, “What if  _ we _ want Adora on our team?”

“You can have Bow.” Mermista hit back.

“Yeah, I am  _ right  _ here.”

Perfuma clasped her hands together as Scorpia careened around her to continue glaring at Adora.  _ Okay, that’s not annoying at all. Why is this still happening, she made her point! In front of everybody! Which is awkward!  _ “And you’re great Bow-”

“But you weren’t captain of the volleyball team in highschool.” finished Frosta.

“Uh, it was soccer.” It  _ was  _ both, for a few years at least. Adora was never on the volleyball team long enough to make the captain position that was promised to her whenever she entered her senior year. Soccer was her first love, a worthier and tougher battlefield, plus the lucrative scholarships it held for her future far outweighed the extra leadership position. Mara’s death fresh on her mind and weighing her down in every possible way, Adora walked into her junior year and quit the team. She’d been outed by that point, to add insult to injury, and figured one hellish locker room experience of changing in the shower stall to make the other girls comfortable was  _ more  _ than enough. Orchestra, the school newspaper, and studying for the SAT as well as keeping Razz from falling down the apartment complex’s stairs because a person that was very much not real was contesting her pie recipe down on the first floor would fill the holes soccer could not plenty. 

“There’s a difference?” Mermista asked, her maritime superiority leaking through.

“Yeah, a pretty big one.” Adora wasn’t sure how to answer that. Coming up with a witty enough comeback was difficult when she was now a participant in a staring contest/game of chicken she hadn’t even signed up for! Seriously, Scorpia had not blinked once.  _ This is how she’s gonna help Catra?  _ Was she wearing a hat with a lobster on it? 

“Sorry,” the young lawyer shrugged, “sports with balls in them are just really confusing in my opinion.”

Grunting, Adora gripped her fists tighter because apparently she  _ was  _ going to entertain this “ _ How-” _

“Psst,” Adora’s reply was interrupted when she was called from the other side of the pool and turned to see Glimmer, her violet parero still covering her suit, beckoning her to come forward. Ugh, there. She had an out from whatever argument Frosta and Mermista were starting ( _ why _ was Frosta taking the negative; she was an  _ ice skater  _ and played hockey, two sports that lacked ball objectives) and Scorpia’s vicious line of sight. Adora had never known her (ex)girlfriend’s roommate to be vindictive or even mean, but it did make perfect sense that Scorpia’s undying loyalty would prevent her from taking a meditative stance.  _ Of course she hates me,  _ Adora couldn’t help the thought just like she couldn’t help the crack it made in her armor. No, she shouldn’t- she wouldn’t!- go down that rabbit hole. She was distracted enough as it was. Adora had to “stay on target,” as Glimmer had said. So, in that interest, Adora gave Scorpia the upper hand and broke off their little mind game to talk to her roommate.

Purple toenails teetering on the edge, Glimmer leaned down as Adora swam over, Bow coming up for air on the other side. “I think it’s working!”

“You really think so?” Adora rested her arms on the warm brick ledge. “‘Cause I kinda feel like our plan just fell to pieces.”  _ Don’t look over at the bar Adora, do  _ not  _ look over the bar! Can’t you be a  _ functioning  _ lesbian instead of a disaster like everyone thinks you are for one minute?! _

“So she brought a little backup! That’s nothing the Best Friend Squad can’t handle.” Glimmer scoffed, waving Adora’s nervous negativity out of the air. Adora grimaced. The backup was not what she had in mind when she suggested the plan- that Catra and her stupid sexy legs basically  _ copied! _ \- was on the brink of total destruction. 

“Actually, Perfuma just told me  _ she  _ invited Scorpia and Entrapta,” Bow swam around to inform them, “That makes me feel kinda bad we didn’t, you know, invite Catra.”

_ Oh, NOW you feel like the bad guy? And I  _ did  _ invite Catra! She’s the one who threw a fit about coming and decided to punish me for even asking by showing up in that bikini and putting her tattoos on show and her literal perfect legs that I kinda want wrapped around me- FOCUS ADORA.  _ Was she drooling?

Glimmer again rolled her eyes before sharing a look with Adora, “Who’s side are you on Bow?”

“Uh,” his mouth hung open as his eyes traveled between the two of them, “no one’s?”

Letting a growl escape her throat, Adora tried not to scream in the face of his blatant hypocrisy (one word of truth from Perfuma and he was suddenly beyond the pettiness that was plaguing literally everyone else? Bow was the person who was supposed to stop Glimmer  _ and  _ Adora from doing something stupid! They were a thirty five dollar swimsuit past that now!) as Glimmer threw her head back with a grunt of her own. But Bow refused to have the hot seat passed to him.

“Geeze, you guys are making me feel like I’m on an episode of Will and Grace.” 

“Uh, I can’t believe I’m having to ask this again, but do you guys wanna play volleyball or not? Or are you guys just going to stand there having private meetings?” Mermista shouting from over the net prevented Adora from ripping Bow’s head off/ having a very public meltdown. Despite Glimmer’s insistence that their offensive tactics were working, Adora had doubts about how long she could hold this together. They were only twenty minutes into a party that in previous years had a tendency to go on for  _ hours _ and yet she was already exhausted. Physically  _ and _ emotionally.

Adora had gone thirteen full years without even a second thought about Catra. As cruel as that was, it had been the protective result of repressing years upon years of ongoing trauma that her childhood best friend was tangled up in. Thirteen years she’d survived- by the skin of her teeth- but all of a sudden she couldn’t go three freaking days of radio silence?

_ You know why you can’t go three days.  _ Her mind taunted but Adora swallowed the thought before it could speak the specific word. 

_ Oh, because of my dependency issues?  _ She shot back.  _ That thing Bow says that I only believe that I’m worthy when another person has vouched for said worth?  _

As weird as it was to use her deepest personal flaws as arrows to fire on her own brain, they were valid points and Adora knew that. Her trouble setting boundaries was one of the issues that got them into this mess in the first place, that she could admit.  _ Now if only Catra could admit what  _ she  _ did wrong! Then  _ maybe  _ we’d get somewhere! _

_ _ But those dependency issues, the ones rooted in the way she’d been puppeteered her whole life, Adora couldn’t afford to endorse them right now. She couldn’t afford to let Catra be just another puppeteer when Catra was on the prowl for a chance to exert all the control she’d ever been denied. Shaped by years of disappointment and heartbreak, Adora couldn’t afford a one-sided relationship where she put in all the work and compromise was actually succession in disguise. Right now, as painful as it was, as much as it suffocated her to be twenty five feet away from her and not break this unbreakable silence, it was crucial that Adora proved she was not the welcome mat Catra ascribed her to be.

Adora braved one more look towards the bar. Ocean eyes pleaded with scathing split ones for an infinite second-  _ say something, Catra! Do something! Anything so we can stop this!-  _ before Adora blinked. 

Alright then. If Catra wasn’t going to make the first move, then there was no point in sitting around feeling sorry for her or herself. 

“I’m in.” Adora turned around and forced her voice to be light and cheery, motioning for Frosta to throw her the ball. Tossing one more venomous look at Scorpia, she added, “But I wanna be on Mermista’s team. You guys can have Bow.”

“Hey-”

“Alrighty Bow! Dream team right here!” Scorpia whooped and Adora rolled her eyes as she swam under the net.

“Heck yeah, dream team!” Bow high-fived her waiting hands. Wow, he really was gonna stick to this no side thing. “At least  _ somebody  _ wants me. Glimmer, you gonna sit this one out?”

Turning to watch her other roommate, Adora’s heart skipped a beat as Glimmer gave the water a timid look over as she puffed her cheeks, holding her breath. But Glimmer’s body barely leaned forward, and Adora sighed in relief when the imminent threat of her best friend falling in ceased. “Uh, yeah. I think so.” Glimmer told them and she sat down to put her feet in the water. “You guys can play, I’ll just watch.”

“Ugh,  _ finally! _ ” Mermista threw her head back in boredom, “Only took forever to figure that out, nice job guys.”

Adora blinked and by the time the playlist blasting from the mansion’s outdoor state-of-the-art speakers and curated by Sea Hawk began repeating itself (“Sea Hawk, if you play one monre One Direction song, I’m gonna burn your bed and make you sleep on the couch downstairs!” “My dearest Mermista, you can’t say things like that. We are in front of our friends, this is a professional environment. You know how threats of you burning my things turns me on.” “UGHHHHHHH!”) the volleyball game was abandoned for a smaller, more private game of Marco Polo. Between Adora’s skill and Scorpia’s stamina, the volleyball match went round after round before ending in a disappointing and frustrating tie. At least for Adora. Maybe playing a game where she could literally take out all her strength on an object of synthetic leather while she was in the midst of an exhausting personal crisis  _ in front of  _ the subject of said exhausting personal crisis was not the smartest activity to get looped into. Still, everytime the volleyball hit her skin and ignited her nerves as she sent it flying over the net, for a brief second Adora could send her frustration to a vessel that wasn’t her own body. And that made the grating voice of Harry Styles and the addition of her (ex) girlfriend’s best friend and roommate to her growing list of enemies worth the exertion and sweat. Even when the volleyball hit her covered failed tattoo/puncture wound and sent her brain into a raging override.

“Are you  _ sure  _ you weren’t captain of the volleyball team?” Frosta had asked after one of Adora’s strikes sent the ball skipping on the water and onto the deck, forcing Glimmer to forgo her spot with her feet dangling over the rim to chase it.

Brushing her damp hair back with her fingers, Adora let hot air out of her nose, “ _ No,  _ Frosta. I’m positive I wasn’t. Let’s just reset.”

“Sheesh.”

“What?” caught off guard by Frosta’s sudden change of tone, Adora turned her back on the sound of Glimmer tripping in the grass and Bow yelling after her to face the judgemental expressions of her teammates.

“It’s just, we  _ knew  _ you were competitive…” Frosta began, running her fingers under the straps of her cobalt colored one piece.

But you’re being a straight up beast, Adora.” finished Mermista, “It’s like you’re trying to  _ kill _ Scorpia. Seriously, what is going on with you and why are you being so psycho?”

Adora winced, scurrying to cover for her behavior as she rubbed the bandaid on her arm “I’m not- I’m- I’m not trying to  _ kill  _ her-”

“Does it have anything to do with why Catra’s been sulking at the bar and I haven’t seen you two talk since either of you got here?” Frosta raised an eyebrow and Adora swallowed, her face hot as if she was being corralled and scolded by two accusatory parents.

“Yeah, usually you two are joined at the hip but now you’re not talking for some reason? Like Catra’s going through all my booze and you’re basically destroying my only volleyball so I’m guessing the honeymoon phase is over?” speculated Mermista, her arms crossed.

Opening her mouth to explain, Adora had to fight the urge to bury herself under the water when Frosta barreled onward, “Are you guys fighting? 

“We’re not  _ not  _ fighting.” Adora answered. Oh, she and Catra were fighting alright. There was no other way to dress this up without being totally honest, yet Adora couldn’t help but clam up when they poked and prodded her. Yes, Mermista and Frosta were her friends. Yes, Catra had the tactical advantage by outnumbering Adora with her people and if this was gonna get any uglier it might be smart to recruit  _ her  _ people. But this was the type of salacious drama that drew people like honey drew flies. Everyone would have a different opinion, a different voice to add to the too many already shouting over each other in Adora’s brain. Beyond Glimmer and Bow’s guidance, Adora didn’t think she could stomach anymore well intentioned “advice.” Either way, she didn’t want to talk about her (ex) girlfriend right now. She just wanted to keep hitting that stupid volleyball until it either knocked Scorpia square in the face and forced Catra’s protective hand or it popped under the force of her fist. 

“Yeah, I remember when Sea Hawk and I had  _ our  _ first fight as a couple,” Mermista started as Adora inwardly grimaced.  _ You and Sea Hawk had your first fight as a couple a million cases of arson ago.  _ “We were fifteen and he “jokingly” threw a rock at a dolphin to get my attention when we vacationed in Oahu. I ate so much ice cream the resort was out Rocky Road for like three weeks.”

“Mermista, no offense, but I can’t really take advice from you about being a couple when every three weeks you and Sea Hawk  _ aren’t  _ a couple.” Adora sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Ha ha, burn.” Frosta’s eyes lit up. “Literally!”

“Okay, rude.”

“It’s just- I’m  _ fine.  _ Catra and I-” Adora stuttered before giving up, “It doesn’t matter. What is taking so long with that stupid volleyball?”

Adora never did get to hit Scorpia in the face with the volleyball and she never popped it. Her skin soaking up salt as the sky around them darkened from a bright blue to show if the consequences of such self destruction were arbitrary. The same way she treated their relationship.

_ How does she do it?  _ Adora’s eyes wandered cautiously over in the direction of the bar to find Sea Hawk and Marshmallow throwing their heads back in laughter as Catra traced the rim of her empty glass with her fingernail, fist knotted in her ponytail of curls.  _ How does she act like we have doesn’t matter? That beating me in this stupid game is worth more than being together? I’m right here and Catra does nothing. Why does she always have to win? Because she thought what I had with Mrs Weaver was, what? Some blue ribbon? I thought we were past that. I thought she was past that. _

“Um, there is no way you can hold your breath longer than me.”

_ I thought she was past hating me. _

“Uh, I  _ so  _ can, Mermista. Hey Scorpia, can you come time us?”

The shock of that knowledge that Adora lov-  _ no, _ cared so deeply- for someone who couldn’t give up the ghost of grudge held against her like a knife to her throat hit her deeper than the shock of cold water that she stood in. Sighing, she brought her hands to the surface and saw watery grooves and valleys in her fingers; her skin was past pruny, she was more raisin than woman at this point. The corners of her band aid were beginning to peel up, the skin around a halo of pale white. The sun was setting, and after hours of sitting twenty feet from her, Catra had not made a single move to fix what she had broken (only to get up to go to the bathroom only to come  _ right  _ back to the bar). It was like she was content to sit amongst the shattered pieces in a tantrum of a protest no matter how deeply they cut into her skin.

“Oh sure, Frosta! But I call winner!”

“And then I call whoever wins that round!”

“Can you even hold your breath that well, Perfuma?”

Adora had come here to  _ talk _ to Catra. She’d spent the last three nights writing speeches packed with no pulled punch, wrote apologies compact of honesty for her ears and her ears alone. But Adora never got her way with her (ex) girlfriend, not when they were running around Weavers’ backyard and not when they were standing thirty two yards apart, lips clamped shut and heads held high in Mermista’s. It didn’t matter though. Because Catra had said everything she needed to say to Adora by not saying anything at all. What they had, what they were building, it wasn’t worth making a compromise  _ one time,  _ wasn’t worth a single drop of vulnerability. It wasn’t even worth an acknowledgment of one single word.

“Yeah, remember our trip to the Alps!” 

“You fainted uh, like twenty times.”

“What does that have to do with holding my breath?” 

“You guys have been to the Alps? That’s so cool! The only cool place I’ve ever been in St. Louis. I have a cousin there but she’s like the complete opposite of me.”

And because Adora wasn’t worth that compromise, or even a weak “I’m sorry,” she found that she and her pruny hands should grab onto a new resolve that could replace the old, fragile one she walked in with: if Catra wasn’t going to fight for Adora, then Adora was putting down her shield and her sword for good this time. She was done fighting for Catra. She was done fighting for them. For the past six months Adora had bent over backwards to keep Catra from slipping through her fingers, worked her ass off pushing Glimmer and Bow away just to make room for her and her ego, tore herself apart trying to take responsibility for Catra’s catalogue of issues, and all it had amounted to was the silent treatment as punishment for trying. 

Didn’t Catra have any idea what it was like for Adora to live through those countless panic attacks, flashbacks and endless sleepless nights? What  _ she _ risked by letting in her a little too close? The cruelest part was, the Catra Adora knew was simply too clever- and too caring in her own foreign way- not to see what was right in front of her. But for whatever ulterior motive, she  _ chose _ not to respect it.

“We go every year. Skiing in the Alps, not- not St. Louis.”

“And Perfuma faints like every single time. Or gets air sickness.”

“Remember that time she got air sickness  _ and  _ she fainted?”

“Guys, why are you putting Perfuma on blast like this?”

“Bow’s right, this feels uh, kinda mean?”

“Thank you! Scorpia, Bow, how would you like free flower crowns for being decent friends? Mermista, where do you keep your marigolds?”

“Uh, I dunno about marigolds, but I think Sea Hawk has some eucalyptus.”

Before she was aware of where she was letting the water take her, Adora collided with the edge of the pool, one of Glimmer’s feet knocking into her back. Adora looked up at her best friend, blinking tears out her eyes as she bit her lip. Great, now she was about to cry in a public place. In front of all her friends.  _ Thanks for that, Catra.  _

“How am I supposed to make a flower crown out of eucalyptus?”

“I’m not sure, but I do know you can make a hell of a martini with one.”

“Are you alright, Adora?” asked Glimmer. Something in the way her voice, bright with sympathy and packed with warmth, brought a fresh wave of tears to Adora’s eyes just as she had managed to swallow the last round. Of course the person who walked hand in hand with her through the waves of grief and guilt that came after Mara’s death just as her own father was dying and stuck by her side ever since those awkward days in that support group for kids of their kin would be the first to see her crumbling. 

Adora and Glimmer had had a rocky beginning (but who hadn’t with Adora? Well, maybe Bow), petty arguments and angry side glances as they competed in an unspoken competition of who had had it worse. Knee deep in their respective grief, it was impossible to see the common cause that united them: the universe had fucked them over without so much as a single notice. One day, Mara was a paragon of health and standing in Adora’s corner. The next she was sick, and the next she was gone and Adora was alone and lost in a big, endless city. One day, Micah Detario was the pride of Bright Moon, and his daughter’s biggest fan. The next, his organs were failing and his own wife was operating on him, then the next day he was gone and Glimmer lost a piece of her heart. Angella forced the two of them to sit in the same room together on the first floor of the hospital, right at the same time as Mara and Micah were dying on the seventh, demanded they face the reality of what was happening by “discussing their feelings” under the guidance of Pastor Dave, demanded they face each other. 

The Kids with Dying Parents Support Group (or Kids with Dying Parents Suffering Group as the participants dubbed it) was a colossal and insulting waste of six weeks, underwhelming snacks, and crappy decaf coffee. The exercises taught to them by a religious man with absolutely  _ no  _ qualifications were useless; neither the exercises or the support group stopped the spread of cancer to Mara’s brain nor Micah from contracting a fatal case of pneumonia. Sitting in that circle, pretending to care about the Bible to appease Pastor Dave and to soothe her urge to please while trying to suffocate her urge to explode, Adora was the loneliest shell of herself and rang empty with hurt. But when Mara passed first, the support group did give her something Adora thought she would never gain through this brand of hell: a new friend.

Glimmer came to Mara’s funeral. Adora was flabbergasted; with a weak amount of funds and resources and assisted only by an eldery woman with progressing dementia, Adora was forced to rely on community resources to have her guardian cremated and to put on a small solemnity and wasn’t expecting any real help. A funeral house worker took pity on her. Angella sent a check. But never in a million years did Adora foresee that the girl who hated her guts to show up-and bring her mother who Adora had more than once physically threatened- at the last minute funeral no one received an invite too. 

_ “I haven’t been very nice to you.”  _ A version of sixteen year old Glimmer, adorned with a sparkly black veil and somber dress, spoke somewhere in Adora’s mind.

_ “No. You haven’t.”  _ Adora could still remember the way her hands were violently shaking even as her pruny hands remained level in the water. She could recall her frantic thoughts of trying to hunt down Razz and keep her from stumbling into the church’s basement to check for Mara’s ghost. Right as she stood in Mermista’s infinity pool, the damp fabric of her swimsuit imprinted on her skin, she could still feel the tight black dress choking her ribs and how that pain was a constant reality check. Mara was gone and no miracle would be bringing her back. So who was going to buy Adora new clothes as she grew into Jack the Green Giant? _ “But- but I understand. I should’ve been nicer to you.” _

_ “Can I sit with you? During the service? My mom’s outside parking the car.” _

_ “Did she put you up to this?” _

_ “No, it was my idea.”  _ _Glimmer let the dig roll off her. For once._ “ _ I know it  _ seems  _ like my mother controls everything I do, but I like to think I have  _ some  _ independence.” _

_ Adora let a laugh putter through her lips. Glimmer took her elbow and didn’t flinch under her shaking hands. _

That was their first breakthrough, standing there in a church alcove waiting for the world’s loneliest funeral service to begin. It was a small gesture that amounted to nothing more than the passing of an olive branch. It meant  _ everything  _ to Adora. What was supposed to be a day of lamenting the emptiness Mara had left growing within her, became a brand new start. Angella was kind enough to take her daughter and her daughter’s new friend as well as her daughter’s new friend’s cooky old caretaker to ice cream after the service, was kind enough to pay for Adora’s order when Razz tried to pay the cashier in pre-WWI pennies, was kind enough to watch after Razz so Glimmer and Adora could sit on the curb breaking down stupid walls and begin building up something much better. 

_We’ve been inseparable ever since, _Adora remembered as she watched her best friend kick her feet back and forth in the salt water. While Adora was stuck in a friendless wasteland of a public highschool, Glimmer attended Bright Moon Academy, a private school where she had one friend more than Adora. She and Bow were introduced not much later, and stood side by side as Micah’s casket was lowered. _Mara died and I got Glimmer. Micah died and I got Bow. Is it selfish to be thankful? _It’s not like she couldn’t see the irony; hence why Book Adora losing Book Catra yet gaining the fictitious Best Friend Squad was such a purposeful narrative choice. The variable that pain had played in balancing her life had not gone unnoticed by Adora. Being the lone, parentless gay girl may have made her miserable at school, but she spent her weekends sleeping over in Glimmer’s massive media room, ignoring for once her homework, college essays, and GPA as she tried to beat Bow at Mario Kart. When it came time for graduation, to face the next daunting chapter of college, the three of them stepped out of the past and into the future, together as an unstoppable team that could overcome any nameable pain.

An unbreakable team, too, until Adora splurged one night one an Uber. 

_ “All she ever causes you is pain.”  _ Glimmer had said to her in the dressing room and Adora spent a massive emotional dowry trying to brush off her words. All that work had amounted to failure because she had circled her way back to them. What if this- the lashing out, the antagonizing silent treatment, the stab wound- what if it wasn’t a new behavior? What if Adora had been so obsessed with trying to nail down this relationship because of her suffocating fear she could never be worthy of one, she didn’t know what it was she was trying to nail down? Blindsided by her chance for real love- or at least close knockoff that could pass the inspection of it- Adora had overlooked Glimmer’s warnings and Bow’s well-founded advice. She had, in an intentional move, ignored the red flags waved by the same makeshift family that had picked her up off of the dirty ground after every single fall. Pain had balanced Adora’s life. And she had almost gone and turned it upside down, almost squandered the family she had in Glimmer and Bow in a risky and reckless gamble, because Adora refused to learn her lesson.

How could she have been  _ so _ stupid?

“Adora?” Glimmer asked again, her voice snapping Adora’s reality back into place like a dislocated limb. Maybe it was the shock of this shift, or just that this was the first instance all day someone had cared to ask  _ her  _ what she thought, the question that had been dancing on her tongue slipped.

“Glimmer, when you tried to tell me that Catra was hurting me back at Target…” Adora trailed off, jagged, worn down nails digging into her wet palms as she fought the urge to look back at the bar. “Do you really think me dating Catra was really just me… self sabotaging like I always do, just in disguise? I mean, you and Bow knew she was bad news and I…”  _ I wanted to be worthy. I wanted to be worthy of someone I wasn’t worthy of before.  _

“Bae, you’re the wrong person to blame in this scenario. You  _ tried.  _ Can Catra say that?” Glimmer bumped her shoulder. At least  _ her _ attitude and resolve were intact and perky as ever. 

_ I did try. I did everything. I let her into She Ra, I spent  _ way  _ too much money on Uber. I tore up a hospital because I thought she was dead. Ugh, why did I do that?  _

“This is on her, Adora. Not you.” Glimmer told her as she shook her head. “I don’t know what Catra was planning when she came party crashing, but obviously it wasn’t to make up with you.” 

Adora bit her lip, a solemn realization gripping her heart. “You’re right. It wasn’t.” 

Today had been for nothing. Adora couldn’t say for sure that this was the end of what they had, a demolition of all they had built up. As much as Catra walked the walk of a breakup, she hadn’t talked the talk, and as a result Adora had no idea where they stood on Loo-kee’s custody, or their  _ book.  _ God, the existence of She Ra left so many questions and stranded her in a pit of awkwardness she wasn’t even sure where to start climbing out of. If Catra wanted her cut of the profits, eventually this punishment of silence would have to cease. A white flag would have to be waved from her end. Meaning the only solid time frame Adora was sure she’d get the dumping she deserved, was in about a year, if they were lucky. Great.  _ Maybe we could be friends and still work as partners. I owe that much discomfort to this project. Catra does too.  _ Yet even as Adora tried to stand on that logical thought, she could feel everything inside her begin to break. 

Adora didn’t want to go back to what they had before. Not even for She Ra. Not when she felt for Catra what she was trying to say she didn’t.

So what did she want? Adora couldn’t help but stare at the dying sun as she blinked the sting of tears from her eyes. And what was she willing to do for it? That’s what Bow would ask her. That’s what Glimmer would, too.

“Actually Glimmer, I think I wanna go home.”

“What? Why?” her roommate stuttered, “You can’t leave yet, we were gonna do karaoke! The party activity I can  _ participate  _ in. And dominate in! Also, we were all gonna eat desert and do the annual roast of The Little Mermaid? You’re really gonna let Catra take this from you? It’s not hers.”

“Catra won... whatever  _ this _ was. There’s no point in me staying anymore. Plus, I’m _ so _ tired.” she looked up at her best friend with what she hoped were honest eyes. She hoped that Glimmer could see beyond her own excitement and her own expectations and honor this defeat. She hoped Glimmer could see that sixteen year old girl beat down by the universe, sitting in an uncomfortable chair in that stupid sharing circle and cupping the grossest coffee stomachable, and honor  _ her.  _

Glimmer’s shoulders dropped, the disappointment on her face overshadowed by her tone. “Okay, Adora, whatever you need. Hey, do you want me to come with you? I’ll grab Bow and we can stop by Five Guys, you’re favorite! And then I’ll break out the edible cookie dough and  rosé , we’ll watch whatever movie you want!” 

“That’s… really sweet of you, Glimmer,” Stupid tears! She didn’t want to cry! Not here. Not now. “But I think I kinda want to spend tonight by myself.”  _ Like I’m gonna be for the rest of my life, gouging myself on Rocky Road ice cream like Mermista in Oahu.  _ “The only thing that sounds nice right now is Kraft mac’n’cheese right from the pot and crying to every Peraltiago episode of Brooklyn 99, wondering if I’ll ever get that.” 

“You’ll get that, Adora. This is just a false start.” Glimmer squeezed her wrist. “Bow and I’ll take care of the food and you know, bully Sea Hawk into driving us home.”

“Thanks Glimmer.” 

“Of course! Anything for you, Adora.” her best friend winked. The lump in Adora’s throat unwound just long enough for her to take a deep breath before Glimmer added, “But you better wash that pot ‘cause eating straight mac’n’cheese is so gross, bae.” 

Giving her one last grand eye roll to send their crusade off, Adora added “Har, har Glimmer. I’ll just- I’ll just get out over here so I don’t like, accidentally knock you in or something.”

“Uh, thanks?”

Adora squeezed Glimmer’s wrist one last time before twirling around in the pool. Changing directions, she stretched arms out and let the cool feel of the water drain out the residue of heartbreak constricting her lungs as she tried one last time to reason this was the right thing to do. Adora was essentially passing the ball permanently to Catra’s court by leaving this party. Adora was essentially giving up all control.  _ Hmm, never thought I’d ever give it up fully… but I guess Catra should be so honored I finally let go of the reins for her. Be walking out and not looking back. _

Should she look back? Adora never got to make the scene she so badly wanted, never got to show Catra that she wasn’t the only one capable of cruelty. What would be worse on the receiving end? wondered Adora. To look back and give her (ex)girlfriend one last glance and one last reminder? Or to tell her she was not worth even that?

_ Maybe that’s the kick in the teeth Catra needs. If I don’t give her the satisfaction of looking back, maybe she’ll finally realize that I’m being serious. I caved by letting her come to this party and gave her the win. I thought it was giving her a chance to fight for me but it was really just a chance for her to lord herself over me and make me miserable. Man, I’d  _ like _ to kick her in the teeth. She Ra gets to do everything I can’t.  _

Her hands colliding with the grit stone of the opposite walls, Adora began to lift her body from the water.

“Yes, I believed the same thing when I began doing the job. Why should we, as this great city, care about the architecture of what’s happening underground?” Sea Hawk was in the middle of saying. 

“The underground? Ain’t that where all the subways are?” Right. Marshmallow. Catra’s backup was sure getting her money’s worth out of this party by talking up their bartender for free drinks. “ _ And  _ I attend the finest nightclubs under Bright Moon, so I don’t care. Take my tax money.”

Ugh. Adora never thought she’d want to throw things at a Drag Queen but here they were. What were they even talking about anyway?  _ And is it annoying Catra? _ Water dripping from her body, the control of her gaze slipped and she found herself right in front of Catra’s foot.  _ Uh oh. I chose the wrong place to get out.  _ But Adora was too far gone to back down and too far pulled into Catra’s orbit to fight her gravity. 

Her (ex)girlfriend was spending her sixth silent hour moping in her same seat at the bar, clawing at the bamboo top and rolling her split eyes whenever Sea Hawk dared to open his mouth. ( _ How has she spent SIX HOURS with Sea Hawk? No one can spend that long with him. Not even Mermista! God, I knew she was angry. I didn’t know she was  _ that  _ angry.)  _ Probably too drunk to give a rip that Adora was beneath her- like she always wanted, right?- and one failed impulse away from splashing the water and soaking her foot, Catra didn’t notice Adora’s crucial mistake. No, she stayed true; wasting the hours self deprecating and self destructing by drinking and committing cruelty just by showing up in that outfit. Damn that outfit! It had thrown Adora off her game since the second she’d arrived.

What gave Catra the right to show up dressed to kill  _ her  _ in that red Haiwaiin shirt, unbuttoned and opened to show off her black bikini top, her tattooed ribs gleaming with sweat and temptation. What gave Catra the right to ditch the charcoal jeans for whitewashed booty shorts,- zipper undone, the poisoned cherry on top- and to torture Adora with her long, godly legs. One of which, Catra had tattooed the fake black ink of the  _ Horde  _ insignia. Nice (bitchy) touch. Guess she can’t really resist herself when it comes to bragging about how they’re on different sides, can she? Closing her eyes, Adora tried to push away any images, any somatic hallucinations, of tracing the feel of her thighs, running her fingers over those exposed tattoos and memorizing them, lost in the gravity of her lips. 

Cruel. This was cruel.

“What nightclubs? Perhaps I’ve been. I am quite the affluent performer.”

“Oh baby that’s cute. You know, you and that muscley girl of yours should come down to my club sometime. I’ll get you in, and maybe you can show our bartender how you learned to make this Sex on the Beach.”

_ Huh?  _ Marshmallow saying the words “Sex on the Beach” to Sea Hawk shattered her faraway fantasy and Adora’s eyes flew open. Swallowing, Adora kept her arms holding her body up because in the pale orange lighting, she could see the fine pale lines of Catra’s scars on her legs. She could see the history written in blood on her body. The trauma carved in permanence. The effort to seize something,  _ anything,  _ that would grant her feeling, even if that feeling was pain.

_ “All she ever does is cause you pain.” _

“Shit!” Adora’s knees knocked the edge of the pool and her hands caught her right before her face collided with the graveled ground. Never would she grant Catra the satisfaction of looking up, but Adora knew- she  _ knew-  _ that all three pairs of eyes were on her.  _ Just get out of the pool. If she’s this hellbent on the silent treatment, she’ll keep whatever dumb comment to herself.  _ With a bleeding knee and oozing hands, Adora lifted herself out of the water and stood. Now all she had to do was limp away accompanied by whatever pride she had left. 

It took everything in her not to look at Catra. Not to look back. Not to give her even that. Because Adora wasn’t going to let Catra win by default this time; her (ex) girlfriend would learn this way that Adora was dead  _ fucking  _ serious. 

Bow had placed the Best Friend’s Squads belongings on the other side of the yard, tucked away on a stack of three fluffy towels that were calling her name. All Adora had to do was get there, then she could-

“Wow. Graceful as always,  _ Princess.” _

Catra’s words hit her like an illegal kick to the back that threw the breath from her lungs and knocked her heart into her ribs. Three days. Three  _ goddamn  _ excruciating days where Adora didn’t know  _ anything,  _ didn’t know if they were through or they would get through and  _ now  _ she decides to talk?

Lips quivering, fingers curling up into fists, Adora couldn’t fight it within her any longer. Before she knew exactly what it was she’s doing, before she could think it through and stop herself, her own voice was echoing with all the pent up anger of the last 78 hours, “Oh, smack talk? That’s  _ really _ clever, Catra. I knew you had the guts, I didn’t know you had a  _ spine _ !”

The glass Sea Hawk was cleaning slipped from his hand, shattering on the ground and leaving him holding a lone towel. The sound of a beach ball popping in Scorpia’s arms was the pin dropping as everyone in the water turned to stare in the direction of the bar. Catra’s eyes widened, her nostrils flaring, and Adora blanched as the reality of what she’d done settled into her drying skin.

Adora had just turned their passive aggressive battle of wits into a public affair just like that. The scene she so desperately craved had landed straight in her lap by her own making. 

Because like everything with her and Catra, Adora had to do it herself. 

_

“So Mr. Pirate,” Marshmallow’s tipsy drawl was like fingernails dragged down a chalkboard made of cheap bamboo, “you gonna let us in on what you do when you’re not mixing drinks?”

“Oh that’s a fantastic question, Marshmallow! No one around here ever sees to show much interest in my work. I let my Mermista have the spotlight. As I answer, why don’t I top off your Sex on the Beach, if you don’t mind?” 

“Yes,  _ please  _ sweetie! Of all the prissy rich boys who’ve made me drinks, you are, hands down the weirdest and most talented. I am  _ so  _ glad I came to this party. Isn’t that right, Catra?” Out of the corner of her pounding eye, Catra saw Marshmallow send her a wink. 

Stiletto nails scraping skin as she curled her fingers into fists, Catra used whatever pathetic excuse for energy her body was conjuring to flip her head to the other side of the bar and away from Marshmallow’s badgering gaze and her sloppy falseys. The cool bamboo melted against her sticky and sweaty cheek as the shined surface fogged up under her whiskey heavy breath.  _ At least fucking Marshmallow is having a good time,  _ the thought rang amongst the pounding in Catra’s head.  _ Everyone here is having a better time than me. _

“Anyways baby, you were saying?”

Sea Hawk, being the idiot man-baby he was, had a shit understanding of volume control and for all his impressive bartending couldn’t recognize the birth of a hangover even if it threatened multiple fucking times to hit him in his “dashingly handsome” face. Course that asshole answered all of Marshmallow’s dumb questions- which she was  _ only _ asking in the spirit of kicking Catra when she was down and royally pissing her off- four bajillion decibels too loud. “Ah, yes. You desired another tale of one of my fantastic adventures!” his booming voice sent a lightning strike of pain up Catra’s spinal cord.

“I love this guy.”

“You see, My Lady Marshmallow, when I am not at sea or traveling in the belly of the behemoth Learjet 23 as I fight with my dearest Mermista for the future of our mother earth-”

“Fucking hell.” whispered Catra under her breath. It didn’t stop Captain Private Jet of SS. Irony for one second. No expletive Catra could whisper under her breath could the onslaught of pain these people were hellbent on dishing her. 

_ I wish I was still wasted. _

“I am a freelance engineer! Top of my class at Bright Moon University and I hold the record for the most fires put out on the job in the tri-county area!” Sea Hawk boasted as if he wasn’t responsible for starting the fires- typical rich fucker- in the first place.

_ Take that back, I wish I was fucking dead. _

“Mm,” Marshmallow took her sweet time audibly gurgling a sip of her Sex on the Beach, “what kind of jobs you do?”

Sea Hawk made a noise that Catra had learned (one hundred fucking percent against her sober will) meant he was stroking the dyed hairs of his mustache.  _ What kind of talking asshole dies his motherfucking mustache? And dark purple? Pirate  _ or  _ e-girl. Pick one, for Christ’s sake!  _ “Currently I regret to say I am not working. Mermista insisted I take most of the summer off to support her legal career and has demanded I stay by her side for almost all of her cases. Her love for me is as strong as a thousand fiery suns. That and her rather irrational fear that I am out to hurt dolphins? Anyways, as I was saying about me! Because you had asked about  _ my _ work! In my last job I was head of engineering for a project administered by the architecture firm Half Moon.”

“Oh yeah, I know them. Weren’t they in the news for I dunno, inclusivity of immigrants or something?” Every syllable her tongue hit like the beat of a drum. Marshmallow just had to keep digging that hole deeper. Fuck this, this was punishment! Punishment for crashing the Toyota and wracking up a bill at the stupid mechanic. How was she  _ not  _ over that? It happened six months ago for Christ’s sake!

_ This whole damn party is a punishment.  _ Catra forced open her aching eyes and found herself staring straight into the caustic light of the sunset.  _ It’s  _ already  _ sunset?! _ God, what a fucking joke the universe had played on her, forcing to come to this joke of a party to try and save her joke of relationship. All this time Catra had wasted waiting for Adora to have the princess knocked out of her by a volleyball hit to the head and come to her senses. All this time wasted waiting for Adora to swim to  _ her  _ edge of the pool and not Sparkles for once. All this time wasted wishing Marshmallow hadn’t opened her big mouth and told Sea Hawk to cut her off because a drunken state was the only one she wanted to exist in, now that Adora’s back was turned. Six hours wasted. Six months for nothing.

“Yes, the CEO of Half Moon is a man who prides himself on providing jobs and opportunities for people of color. He took me out to lunch one day, as well as the whole engineering team as a thank you when our work was finished and he told me his story, and that he started out as an immigrant from Mexico who came here looking for work. I tell you, I was moved to tears. Can you picture it? A man struggles through life yet comes out on top as a CEO of his own company?”

“Mmm, that’s the dream baby, that’s the dream.”

God damnit this was unfair. Catra’s life had gone to complete shit, the one actual person she wanted to hold onto had tossed her aside like yesterday’s garbage, and all anyone around her could do was move on. As if the world  _ wasn’t  _ crumbling to pieces leaving Catra and Adora trapped in a violent silence at the center. Sea Hawk and Marshmallow were sitting around making casual conversation as she fell apart in fucking front of them. Assholes thought they were heroes for cutting her off, for taking away the alcohol she was abusing, and deciding to call it a day after leaving her out to sober up high and dry. 

Yeah, just ‘cause they weren’t enabling her drinking problem didn’t mean they weren’t enabling anything else.

Speaking of enablers, all of Adora’s pretty and perfect friends were walking around with blinders on to Catra and her presence, swooping up Scorpia with the snap of their fingers and hypnotizing her with dazzling brags of trips to the Alps and promises of flower crowns.  _ So much for “I am here for the plan.” _ Between Scorpia’s new crush and her new inclination the apartment should go vegan, Entrapta’s fasnication with the mechanics of Mermista’s waterfall, and Marshmallow taking her sweet fucking time going through different cocktails as she chowed down on jalepeno poppers, was there  _ anyone  _ Sparkles didn’t want to take from Catra with the ease of stealing toys from a kid on a playground? First her girlfriend?  _ Now  _ her friends?

_ And  _ then  _ my fucking booze. _

“I dare say it was a fascinating project, working with Half Moon. They are a company with their eyes set truly on the future yet they value their employees as true human beings.” Sea Hawk waxing poetic made Catra want to eat glass. Unfortunately, she lacked the energy to throw the left hook that would shut that idiot up for good. Marshmallow and her jalapeno poppers had sure seen to that!

Marshmallow nodded, having obtained in the hours since cutting Catra off all the sage wisdom of a narc, “They sound like good people. You think you might work with them again?”

Catra’s nail slipped on the bamboo as she dug deeper into a miniscule wedge on the surface, her wrist bouncing against the surface and the beads of her bracelets colliding against the edge, the fringe brushing against her Selena the Cat tattoo. Tired split eyes tore away from the blurry sunset to stare at the ivory beads calling to her and she let out a shaky sigh. Wearing Sea Hawk’s old friendship bracelet and the W-W-S-D one he made her after she sent him a request of his Etsy store went against the no-fucks-given attitude Catra was wearing to this party. But after throwing on an old pair of shorts (emphasis on old, these things hugged her ass way too tight) and squirming into the large space of Scorpia’s abandoned haiwaiin shirt, Catra turned to her bracelets only to be hit with such a sick sensation that her nose almost bled at the thought of taking them off. Maybe it was her conscience. Maybe it was because the What Would Scorpia Do bracelet  _ was _ her conscience. The bracelets were a brand of lame that fell in line with sleep away camp and lemonade stands, but they stayed. At least for the party.

And because all these Bright Mooners were lame nerds who had definitely been to sleep away camp and had definitely operated lemonade stands, Catra’s bracelets didn’t go unseen.

_ “Ah ha ha, Catra! I see you are wearing the bracelet I made you. Or should I say bracelets!”  _ Sea Hawk and his intact skull were lucky Catra was still downing Old Fashioneds when he dared to trespass her bad mood, “ _ How is the W-W-S-D bracelet working out for you?” _

_ “Fine.”  _ burped Catra.

“ _ That’s good to hear! You know, I was confused when I got an order for a W-W-S-D bracelet at first. I didn’t think you liked me all that much, so why would you be paying for a What Would Sea Hawk Do bracelet?” _

Mid-sip, Catra choked so violently on her tequila that her uvula was still on fire three hours later. “ _ That’s- that’s not what if fucking stands for, you dingdong!”  _ she managed to shout through a fit of choking she only ended up surviving by chugging the rest of the drink. It hurt like a  _ bitch _ ; somehow that pain was a better alternative to dying in front of these idiots after Bow fainted trying to give her the Heimlich. In a great twist of the bitch that was irony, Sea Hawk still managed to hail a better guess than the subject of the bracelet. Catra  _ would  _ rather die in front of these idiots as they fawned over one of their own unconscious than admit to Scorpia she looked to her in moments that lacked clarity to her shade of moral gray and just let her believe the letters stood for “What Would Supergirl Do?” despite Catra’s scathing refusal to binge the CW show with her. 

Bartender Ding Dong had just shrugged her attack off, his threaded eyebrows dancing on his forehead, before turning back to his shelf of ingredients to make Mermista a cocktail of his own creation, “ _ The Sparkling Mermaid took me weeks to get right! Do you know that glitter isn’t digestible in large amounts?” _

_ “I’m sure  _ some  _ people at this party know that,”  _ Catra answered through a hiss, her split eyes taking her to the insulting sight was Adora dangling at the edge of the pool, beaming up at Sparkles as if the bakery owner oozed sunshine out of every hole in her body. 

_ “Catra baby, I told you I only ate all that shit on a dare.”  _ explained Marshmallow (even though  _ no one,  _ not a single fucking soul, asked that of the Drag Queen) and Catra sent her nails into the bamboo, her hands splaying out as she dragged catch herself from faceplanting on the bar out of shock. 

_ “What!?” _

Of course Marshmallow decided not to expand and chose instead to give Catra the side eye while she took another sip of her Rum and Coke. This left a void empty of sound that Sea Hawk just  _ had  _ to fill with the booming sound of his own voice ( _ god I wish someone loved me like Sea Hawk likes the sound of himself talking)  _ “ _ After three, no four, no five! Five hospital trips-”  _ Of  _ shitting  _ himself with glitter?  _ “I managed to perfect the color of the vodka and add a safe amount of glitter to the drink. A challenge this was, but alas, I would go to the ends of the earth for my love, my light, my Mermista! Can you believe she let me be the bartender at our party?” _

_ “After five hospital trips,”  _ Marshmallow mused after another sip- was there fucking glitter in that rum and coke- which had to take up the length of an entire eternity _ , “no.” _

_ “Fuck, I wish  _ someone  _ would go to the ends of the earth for me. Adora can’t even swim to the other end of the pool, apparently.”  _ growled Catra, digging her teeth into the sore and bare cross sections of her lip, her nails tangling up the mess the humidity had made of her curls.

Sea Hawk perked up _ , “Oh is there something going on between you and Adora?” _

Catra’s hands couldn’t stop her face from meeting the bamboo bar that time. 

But of course Dickweed and his eight hundred dollar ascot weren’t the only ones picking up on their little stiff, or the opposite camps she and Adora set up. But  _ of course  _ none of the other party goers at this shit shindig had problems crossing the crossfire  _ except _ Sparkles and her loyal shiny eyed sparklite. About every forty-five minutes Mermista would leave the pool and come check up on Sea Hawk to “make sure nothing was on fire” and take another shining glass of  _ The Sparkling Mermaid  _ to her giant inflatable lounge shark; her bored tone aside, she never left the bar without leaning up to kiss her not-boyfriend on the cheek- something Sea Hawk  _ never  _ made a big deal of,  _ no- _ and Catra tore a chunk of her curls out every single time without fail.

Speaking of ripping her hair out, Perfuma had made a few visits to the bar… to try the eucalyptus martini so highly recommended amongst those in attendance… with Catra’s traitor of a roommate.  _ “You’re so right Scorpia, koala’s  _ would  _ love this stuff!”  _

_ “Heh, yeah. They would, wouldn’t they.”  _ Catra tried not to barf as Scorpia’s cheeks lit up a bright that matched her wetsuit as well as the lobster on her hat- seriously, was  _ everyone  _ in Mermista’s backyard on cloud fucking nine when it came to romance? What, was Entrapta going to propose to Bow with some shiny rock she found at the bottom of the pool or was she really gonna dig the knife in deeper and propose to Sparkles?- before finding herself face to face with Scorpia’s game face, “ _ Don’t you worry, Catra. I’m working on a serious offense out there.”  _ She was definitely working on something,  _ “Adora is on edge. I am totally making strides!”  _

The worst thing about their appearances, about the way Mermista  _ and  _ Perfuma asked Catra how she was, about the way Frosta came up and asked her five times if she wanted to play foosball back inside the mansion (and the one time to say with her head held low “I just realized you and Adora are fighting, and I wanted to say that sucks, but Glimmer said it was probably best not to talk to you.”) was that it meant a bunch of rich stuck up strangers gave more of a fuck about her than her girlfriend. Sea Hawk let Catra burn through his collection of expensive alcohol without the intrusive questions anyone normal with a license to serve alcohol would ask. Shit, even  _ Bow  _ struck up an awkward conversation when he came by for a can of LaCroix. 

“ _ Hey,” _

_ “Hey.” _

_ “You okay?” _

_ “Does it  _ look  _ like it, Rainbow?” _

Expression falling and his bleeding heart failing him, Bow’s gaze fell back to the bar.  _ “I guess not. Sorry I asked?” _

_ “That makes two of us.” _

_ “Here you go, Bow my man!” _

He gave the weak, pathetic smile of a soldier sidelined as Sea Hawk appeared- immune to the awkwardness because for once he wasn’t the cause of it- and handed him his drink request from one of his coolers. For a minute painful for both of them, Bow shifted in his seat, pulled at his shirt, drummed his fingers, and acted out every uncomfortable motion except dare prod her any further. Catra scoffed as she turned away from him.  _ Cat got your tongue,  _ she wanted to kick him in his knee cap and demand. What was his goal here anyway? To be Adora’s agent and Sparkles puppet and somehow convince her to be the one to apologize? No, Adora would get an apology when she got her head out of someone else’s ass like a big girl. Adora would get an apology when made an effort to show that as her fucking  _ girlfriend _ , Catra’s opinions and feelings weren’t any less inferior than the rulings of the Best Friend Squad. 

_ “Thanks Sea Hawk.”  _ Bow had smiled at the bartender and Catra’s heart skipped with envy of his genuine objective. Teeth indenting her tongue, she refused to grant him the satisfaction of watching him get up from the bar just to go back to Adora and Sparkles and abandon her in her pain just like everyone else. Bow had this uncanny fucking ability to see right through people; Catra wasn’t looking to let anyone, let alone Rainbow of the Bitchy Bright Moon Roommates, to see how badly she needed a friend right now, how badly she needed a shoulder to cry as her misery leaked out of her faster than she could sober up. Fuck that vulnerability. Fuck him for bringing it out in her. “ _ Uh... take care, Catra?” _

The sharpened sides of her canines broke the skin of her lip and somewhere in the midst of her bitchslap of emotions, Catra tasted copper. Take care, huh? That was all he had to say to her after rooting for her and Adora those early weeks when his best friend’s innocence wasn’t at risk of her corrupt intentions?  _ Take care is a pretty lousy excuse for goodbye. And I’ve been on the other end of some pretty shitty goodbyes.  _ Catra scrambled in her addled brain to brush off the farewell, to conjure up a plan where she conquered this issue on her own, got Adora back from under Sparkles’ spell and made his goodbye null and void, only to fall flat on her face every time she returned to that moment, wasting hour after hour at this bar. 

And now the sun was setting. Catra spent the whole fucking day walking in mental circles and listening to Sea Hawk improvise Hamilton style rap shanties for Marshmallow’s amusement.

“So you’re telling me this architecture firm goes all out and does stuff under ground? That seems a little weird since this city seems to really like those skyscrapers.” Marshmallow was saying, the over the top smacking of her tongue striking what was left of Catra’s ability not to scream and start tearing out people’s eyeballs.

_ Take care, that fucker says. And he’s the only one out of the three of them that says jackshit! That’s all I get after all of this? After  _ everything  _ we’ve been through? Every fucking part of me I let her take?! _

“Yes, I believed the same thing when I began doing this job. Why should we, as this great city, care about the architecture of what’s happening underground?” Catra dug the tips of her nails deeper into her scalp as Sea Hawk came around to answer.

_ Take fucking care?! How am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to let this go after she picks  _ them  _ over me, again? It’s always someone else’s opinion over mine, isn’t Adora? Every teacher, every friend. Fuck, Mrs. Weaver’s opinion was always  _ way  _ more important than I dunno, my fucking  _ welfare? _ And now Glimmer and Bow? _

“The underground? Ain’t that where all the subways are?  _ And  _ I attend the finest nightclubs under Bright Moon, so I don’t care. Take my tax money.”

_ Take care… _

“What nightclubs? Perhaps I’ve been. I am quite the affluent performer.”

_ What kind of bullshit- _

“Oh baby that’s cute. You know, you and that muscley girl of yours should come down to my club sometime. I’ll get you in, and maybe you can show our bartender how you learned to make this Sex on the Beach.”

_ -underhanded sentiment is that even supposed to be? Take care after she abandons you for the second god damn time? Like I’m just some piece of- _

“Shit.”

In wake of her internal meltdown, Catra almost missed the one worded whisper from the person she’d been waiting to come and find her all day long. The one person she’d withstand these other fuckers for all day long. But Adora’s voice hit her like a blow to the head and shattered her into a billion pieces without one inch of permission. Her eyes flew open, ignoring any voices in her head full on screaming at her to stare at the wall of the bar and ignore the pull, but they followed the sound and caught the  _ beautiful _ sight of Adora trying- and failing- to climb out of the pool. Caught her mid-slip against the grout that sends her whole body against the brick. There was just something so fucking vindicating about watching Adora eat shit like after treating Catra as such.

Adora was right there. Adora was right there, right under Catra’s feet pulling herself up using those god-killing arms of hers, and just like that no feat of logic could’ve removed the emotion the threw Catra’s heart into her throat. Adora was here, and just like that it didn’t matter that she’d played shadow to Sparkles all day in an effort to remind Catra how expendable their relationship was. It didn’t matter, not a single ounce of it, because this agony was  _ finally  _ going to come to an end-

_ Why is she walking away from me?! _

Holding herself like the coward she was, Adora didn’t turn around to face Catra. No. Because Adora hadn’t stopped by for a chat or for a drink or for a truce. No. After everything- the car rides, the book, the dates, the sex, the healing and the breaking- Adora had audacity to walk away from her, or limp away since the pool gave Adora what she deserved, to leave Catra stranded there at the mercy of cruel agents. _ _

Again.

_ Look at me, Adora!  _ the words rose in her throat until they formed screams,  _ Fucking  _ look  _ at me! Look at me when you leave me! You  _ fucking _ coward! That’s all you ever were, and that’s all you ever be! _

But Catra didn’t scream. Instead she reserved her anger ‘cause it was the only thing that was gonna keep her from passing out in a puddle of her own vomit later. Didn’t matter why she was doing it, though. Adora didn’t deserve the luxury of Catra’s anger, because she was way past deserving to know that Catra cared. That Catra couldn’t stop caring. That even as Adora limped away from her, she wouldn’t stop caring. Caring got her into this fucking mess, like hell it would be her out. Her nail slipped in the bamboo and the words just slipped out, “Wow. Graceful as always,  _ Princess.” _

Oh yeah, and she was still pretty fucking  _ drunk. _

Like she gave a damn what she said  _ or  _ what Adora could say back. There was nothing at this party that Catra hadn’t already lost.

“Oh, smack talk?” When Adora’s laugh hit Catra’s ears, it was that exact feeling of loss that traveled down Catra’s scarred back and pierced her in the stomach. How could something she missed so much it came close to killing her sound so fucked up? “That’s  _ really _ clever, Catra. I knew you had the guts, I didn’t know you had a  _ spine _ !”

_ Fucking. Finally.  _

For the first time in six damn hours, the party and the airhead party goers fell upon a dead silence, and it was almost bliss considering how badly Catra just fucked up. Scorpia’s clumsy ham hands put the beach ball out of its never ending misery, and oh, the glass Sea Hawk was playing tapper turned therapist fell from his grip and shattered on impact, but thanks to the fact Mermista made him kill his precious 1-D playlist, not a single thing or person was making a sound.  _ Everyone  _ had shut up.  _ Everyone  _ had turned to stare, too enamoured with their opportunity to shove their brown noses in private business to forget their precious Bright Moon manners. 

Catra could see the immediate regret as it sunk into Adora’s face, sucking the remaining color away from her face, and leaving nothing but the simmering anger in her ocean eyes. This- what was tearing Adora apart right in front of Catra’s eyes- was what tearing their relationship apart. The Bright Moon Adora that Bow and Sparkles created, the persona the Bakery Alliance rewarded and reinforced, would pale at the thought of throwing down with Catra right here and right now, would shudder at the desire to rip the curls from her head with a public audience watching their every move. But the real Adora- the Adora Catra knew lay underneath that crafted facade- was not a privileged pussy too proud to throw a real punch. 

_ Who knew all I had to do to get Adora back was call her out?  _ A voice inside composed of anger only whispered a little too damn satisfied. Didn’t matter apparently; Catra’s stomach had twisted itself into a pretzled knot, her own warring intentions splitting  _ her _ in half. She was supposed to be becoming a good person, not a Weaver 2.0 or a Hordak knock off. This wasn’t what Catra had come here to do.  _ Adora didn’t  _ respect  _ what I came here to do! She shut me out and gave Glimmer my spot! What kindness does she deserve that I don’t? _

An all out brawl with Adora wasn’t what Catra had come here to do, but Catra was never one to back down from a fight. Not when it was all she’d been doing her entire fucking life. So if Adora was finally going to throw that real punch, Catra would catch her arm mid air and dig her nails into her skin. Catra would show Adora the animal that bad kitten had become when she walked out.

“Oh Adora,” Catra slipped from her stool and ignored the aching pain of standing on her legs for the first time since God knows when, “Aren’t you one to talk? I’m sure you’d know  _ all  _ about a spine considering you’re so fucking close to one with your head of Sparkles’ ass!”

Her own words ringing in her head, Catra heard someone whisper, “Uh, what’s happening?”

“Oh here we go,” sighed Marshmallow as fury blossomed on Adora’s face.  _ There she is. _

“Are you  _ kidding  _ me, Catra? You  _ stab _ me and storm out of me when I make something about my friends, but  _ you  _ can make all our problems about Glimmer? Nice job on the hypocrisy, Catra! Real nice!” Adora threw her hands up in the air, the condescending tone in her words enough to make Catra burst at the seams.

“You wanna talk about hypocrisy, Adora?” Catra didn’t miss a beat. “You wanna talk about all those promises you made but didn’t bother to fucking keep? Because one of us is a hypocrite, but I  _ promise  _ it’s not me.”

Somewhere out in the water where she couldn’t touch them, one of them had the balls to whisper, “Wow, Catra,” and it took every ounce of the part of her that was trying to save face not to pick up her empty glass and chuck it in the direction of their head.

“How dare you?” Adora, her expression a painful twisting of anger and detriment, balled her fists up in reaction to the nerve Catra without a doubt hit, “How dare you make this about that when you  _ know _ there’s  _ nothing _ I can do to fix what happened?”

“That doesn’t mean you get to act like everything’s fucking fine, Adora! The  _ second  _ I let you off the hook you go straight back to treating me like shit, like I’m the second best option in the room, just like you  _ always _ did!” screamed Catra. Her voice growing hoarse after drenching her throat in alcohol, she had Adora pinned back up against the wall of their past, ready to break it open and shove her straight into the consequences of her negligence. Let payback be the bitch it was to Catra all her life. 

But Catra faltered. Because this wasn’t making her feel the way it was supposed to. She didn’t feel vindicated and victorious. More like empty and fucking idiotic. Only someone like her would break something as good as what she was crushing with her bare hands. Her reality was smearing like paint on a canvas faster than she could ground herself in her raw anger, Catra stood in front of Adora as she was collapsing, breaking, all at her own hand. 

_ This is wrong.  _ And that thought was right, except that it was never once in the past been enough to make Catra stop and it sure as hell won’t be a fraction enough right now, as she was destroying everything she loves.

“I’m  _ trying,  _ Catra! Why isn't it enough? Why is  _ nothing _ I do good enough for you?” Adora’s voice broke- another casual Catra casualty- while her tantrum grew.  _ This is wrong. Everything about this is wrong! _

Of course everyone else and their grand egos thought the same. Of course they thought they deserved a say in this after basically making it happen. “Ladies, maybe we should-”

“ _ Butt  _ out, Sea Hawk!”

“Seriously,  _ fuck _ off!” 

Adora’s neck snapped back to her, Catra’s threat reinvigorating her blistered anger, “Don’t yell at him!” 

“Are you shitting me? Stop telling me what to do, Adora!”  _ This is wrong.  _ “God damn it, the hypocrisy just doesn’t end with you, does it?”

“You wanna see hypocrite-”  _ Oh fuck. _ When her girlfriend lurched forward, only to be caught in her warpath by Glimmer, Catra was thrown backwards into the sleeper agent that lived in her core, thrown from the young woman on top of her shit she was parading as to the scared little girl cowering in the dark. 

_ This is wrong.  _

Catra always pushed, and Adora always pushed back. Because that was who they were and who they had been. It wasn’t ever supposed to be anything more than a game, the fighting, the wrestling. It wasn’t ever supposed to be like the pain in their lives that was  _ real. _

But Catra wasn’t the only one who had risen from the ashes of her trauma ready to burn everything to the fucking ground. Adora just hid that hardened part of her under a protective layer, and Catra had just spent the last three days recklessly picking that layer apart out of pettiness and spite.

“Adora!” Glimmer’s voice registered somewhere in Catra’s smeared reality and a new surge of anger set her chest on fire. As fucked as Catra could see this was, there was just something about Sparkles and the audacity she had to show her face that made Catra see red. Of  _ course _ Sparkles stuck her dumb ego into this. If this was about Catra and Adora, the Queen of Bright Moon had to have a seat at the table. 

“Speak of the  _ fucking  _ devil!” Catra let out a violent hiss that had Glimmer pushing Adora out of the fray.

Because she obviously had the moral high ground here, Sparkles threw her own weak punch like she was Adora’s knight in glittery armor. “Catra, you’ve gone to far-” 

“Oh! Oh, are we throwing down? Gotta get out of this dumb pool floatie, augh I knew this was a bad idea- Catra, Catra wait for me!” Catra’s roommate- presumed missing until this point- shouted from somewhere in the pool.  _ Scorpia. Right _ . Right up until the other woman was tripping over her own legs trying to climb out of Mermista’s stupid pool, Catra hadn’t once thought about her supposed friend that had previously pledged her loyalty only to fumble it like she did everything else. Guess Scorpia had decided bouncing from her impromptu pool date was only worth doing if it made a more impressive gesture than how long she could hold her breath.

“Scorpia, no.” Glimmer commanded as if she was Scorpia’s mother. And that was the fucking problem wasn’t it? Sparkles wore the crown so every word she said she could just go around acting like it was the law. Adora certainly followed her! Why shouldn’t all these other stupid sheep? Right?!

Ocean eyes caught split ones, the sound of Scorpia hoisting herself right where Adora had made her grand exit earlier lost on their ears. Catra was drowning. She was losing Adora, she was losing her mind in the process. And she was too far gone to do anything other than let out the scream that had been building in her chest and corroding her lungs.

“Fan-fucking-tastic, Sparkles. Way to make it so  _ Adora  _ gets backup but you keep Scorpia at bay? But I don’t deserve that, right? Because I’m the  _ bad  _ guy right?” By this point, every single cell in her body was floating in dissociation. ‘Cause the world was ending and her mental state decided to take the rest of them with her. Suffocating at the hands of her own volcanic emotions, Catra wasn’t aware she was shouting, wasn’t aware her hands were even carrying out a supporting gesture until Adora screamed,

“Don’t touch her!”

Because instinct was the last thing anchoring her to this shit reality, instinct was the only thing Catra could act. When Adora threw out her own arm to keep Catra from laying a coniving evil finger on Glimmer, Catra caught her arm before her tipsy as fuck brain cells bothered to process anything. 

Something like a laugh slipped past Catra’s lips-  _ why the hell am I laughing?-  _ as she dug her nails, broken nails now from all that time scrapping the bamboo bar, into Adora’s skin. Into Adora’s bandaid. Into the wound Catra held sole responsibility for. “Don’t touch  _ her? _ ”

“Catra-” Adora tried to pull away, her blue eyes wide, but even her brute strength wasn’t enough to free her. 

“All this time, I tried not to think of you as like the rest of them-”  _ Like everyone else who can only see me as some fucked up mix of a batshit crazy common criminal who just  _ happens  _ to be poor.  _

“Catra-” warned Glimmer, but no matter what pile of gold Sparkles was sitting on, she  _ wasn’t  _ Catra’s mother. 

“-but you’re  _ just  _ like the rest of them Adora!”  _ You let  _ her  _ put ideas in your head! About how I’m bad, and crazy, and that I’m  _ just  _ the villain in your story. _

“Catra, wildcat, maybe this isn’t-”

“You’re a coward! I can’t believe I ever thought  _ anything _ different!” Catra watched every word hit Adora, watched as they landed like the knives in the back they were, and somehow didn’t crumble to the ground still underneath her after she said them. How was she doing this?  _ Why  _ was she doing this? There wasn’t ever gonna be a chance to take what she said back. Catra swallowed a lump in her throat. This is where the damage had been done. This where she needed to let go.

But she couldn’t.

“Catra,” Adora begged like it was one more plea to listen to reason, “just let go.”

She wouldn’t.

“Catra- Catra, let go!”

She was going somewhere else.

_ “Charlie, let go.” Catra griped at the toddler hoping a pair of angry eyes would convince him to let go of his death grip on her curls. The little shit may not have come out of her but didn’t make him any less of her responsibility, apparently. Hordak was too good- or too drunk or too high or something- to be a decent father so Catra had to be the kid’s nanny if she wanted not to be some random body on a shipping container on a cargo ship heading for Cambodia, apparently. _

_ Charlie just giggled and Catra grimaced at the sound. How could a  _ baby _ possibly sound that much like a psycho? Dropping her pencil onto her sketchbook, Catra mumbled in Spanish- -he couldn’t repeat a curse word if he didn’t know it was one- as she pried Charlie’s sticky fingers off her hair. _

_ “No!” Charlie fussed, putting on the whole frustrated little kid act when Catra ignored him. He kept his fingers balled up into angry little fists even after she was successful and stared a hole in her head with those freaky green eyes of his.  _

_ Ugh, all she wanted was an afternoon to draw. Hordak was gone and wasn’t coming back for probably another hour or two (he never ever specified out his own paranoia; Catra didn’t ask because these days it was better to assume), the house was completely empty except for the two of them, was it really so insane to think she could maybe squeeze a figure drawing or two in? Yeah, maybe dragging a one and half year old out to the pool deck when he refused to put on shoes- but fuck, did he enjoy launching them at Catra’s head whenever she tried- was not gonna be an idea that anyone was gonna find in a parenting magazine for white people anytime soon, but the rest of the house was a fucking trainwreck. For a dude so hellbent on having custody over the kid in the first place, Hordak did not baby proof this hellhole. Honestly, out here was the least hazardous place for Charlie. Catra just had to keep an eye on him. _

“Oh my God, Catra!” Glimmer practically shrieked, yanking Catra out her memories halfway in a shrill tone dogs could probably hear. Catra knew what was coming, what the next step in her Bright Moon fit, and she was prepared to handle it, but right when Sparkles made a move to separate Catra’s hand from Adora’s arm, Scorpia decided it was time to take her rightful place as the best friend she was always bragging she was and pushed Sparkles right back into Adora.

“Oh no you don’t!”

“Scorpia!” Sparkles was one foot stomp away from a complete and total bitch fit.

“I’m not letting you touch my wild cat, uh huh, Sparkles. I know that I am a guest at this party but I’m drawing the line  _ here. _ ” Scorpia told her and with the one hand Catra still had on the present she threw her eyes back into her head.  _ Jesus Christ. _

“Oh wild cat,” a nervous chuckle from Perfuma could not be more unneeded at this point, “that’s uh, that’s a really endearing nickname.”

“You know what Scorpia,” started Glimmer, taking a pretty ballsy step forward.

A stupidly long sip and clicking her tongue, Marshmallow threw in, just because she fucking could apparently, “The girls are fighting!” 

“Catra needs to let Adora go,” Ocean eyes caught split ones and  _ begged,  _ “I can’t believe you’re defending her!”

“I’ll  _ always _ defend Catra! She’s my best friend!”

“Uh careful ladies,” Sea Hawk coughed and out of the corner of her eye Catra saw Entrapta’s snorkled head pop out of the water. Oh, how nice of her to join them while it was all going to  _ shit _ , “You’re um, you’re quite close to the uh, the water there.”

_ “Charlie, come back here.” Catra forced a commanding tone. Even though the hairs on her arms stood at the paranoid thought of Hordak ever hearing her speak to his son this way, the only slim chance she stood with Charlie was to be stern. Besides, this was much kinder to the way her own mother figure talked to her anyway. “You’re too close to the edge, you’re gonna fall.” _

_ Stopping his toddling, Charlie turned his head all the way around like some possessed doll in a horror movie, his applesauce fingers still clamped to his diaper. The little shit was a step or two away from the pool. The pool that despite it being the middle of the damn winter- Arizona winter, but still- was still filled to the brim and cleaned every day. That creepy little smile of his appeared on Charlie’s face and Catra’s eyes widened. God damnit, he was about to fucking test her! _

_ Dangling his chubby foot out, he kept his eyes boring into hers. _

_ “Charlie-” _

“Stop, Scorpia!” Glimmer yelped, that shrill voice once again throwing Catra from her terrible past into the terrible present where her jagged nails dug into the fabric of the bandaid on her girlfriend’s wounds that were only there because of her.

“Don’t come any closer, you B.M!” dared Scorpia.

Glimmer’s dyed eyebrows flew up in indignation. “What the hell is a B.M?”

“Glimmer, be careful!” Adora tried to twist her arm out of Catra’s grasp, swallowing a panicked breath and reaching out for Glimmer as she marched toward Scorpia.

“If you harm a hair on her head-”

“She just needs to let go of Adora! She’s hurting her-”

Catra’s body- now that her mind was trapped between two dimensions while her emotions severed the one she stood in half- reacted to Glimmer’s hands coming down on her free arm on instinct. Because when predators came for prey, Catra had learned over and over and  _ over  _ again, prey acted on the only thing the predators let them keep: their instinct. Sparkles came for Catra so confident she’d stripped her of any remaining dignity to fight back. Like Catra ever had dignity. “Get off  _ me,  _ you bitch!”

Sparkles never saw the mutiny coming; never saw coming the way Catra used all her remaining strength to throw her hands off of her body, barreling backwards past Scorpia and  _ SPLASH- _ straight into the waiting pool.

_ Oh no.  _

Adora ripped her arm, shattered nail beds scraping up her arm, from Catra’s grasp as Catra blinked in horror. “Glimmer!” 

It was happening again.

_ SPLASH! _

_ “Charlie!” _

“She  _ can’t _ swim, Catra!” Adora screamed. Her back turning on Catra, Adora started looking in the water for any sign of Glimmer before a hand popped out of the water.

_ “Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” Catra threw the art supplies off her lap and bolted upwards in a frantic scurry for the pool. Tripping over her boot laces, her eyes looked for the  _ toddler _ she just let stumble into the water. How could she let this happen? She really was  _ this  _ stupid and now Charlie was gonna die for it because, “Fuck, I can’t swim!”  _

_ Every nerve, every instinct, in her body screamed at her that if Catra didn’t jump in now, Charlie was as good as gone and it would be on her head. So why the fuck couldn’t she jump in the damn pool and save him? _

_ “Charlie- Charlie I’m sorry!” Catra shouted in the general direction of the water. An apology? Of course that was the best  _ she  _ could do. _

Choking on her own fear, Catra reached out on more time for Adora. This was not what she had meant to happen when she came to this party. This was  _ not _ what she wanted by calling Adora out. She just- she just wanted Adora to  _ care _ about her and prove to her she was worth caring about. “Adora, Adora I’m sorry! I didn’t- I  _ didn’t  _ mean-

But when Catra managed to grab Adora by the wrist, those ocean eyes were filled with a rage that Catra recognized were beyond forgiveness. “Save it.” Adora, snapping her wrist back, didn’t even look back as she dove into the deep end of the pool to rescue Glimmer.

_Mrs. Weaver’s voice echoed in her head, _What do we do to kittens who misbehave? _and Catra let out a growl. Charlie was going to die. Be a fucking miracle if he wasn’t already._ _He was a shitty kid, but he was just a kid! He didn’t deserve this. _“_Just get in the stupid pool!” _

_ Taking a gulp of breath of air, Catra braced her limbs and jumped into the shock of cold water waiting for her. Regret replaced her adrenaline immediately as her knees crumbled as they hit a bottom she could not see, she straight up  _ refused  _ to open her eyes as she threw her hands out in a pitiful attempt to either thrust her forward or to find Charlie. Catra was losing sense fast and panic was filling up her lungs. Water was gonna be there next. That’s how drowning went, right? Losing all sensation around her except that of the dark and that of the freezing pressure, Catra knew she was going to die. Right here. Right now. _

All remaining sensation was sucked from Catra’s lungs - this was the  _ second  _ drowning she caused with her bare hands, holy shit how much more of a monster could she even be?- and all she could do was stand there shaking. Bow had thrown himself up and out of the shallow end, sprinting to the other end of the pool screaming as his voice cracked “Out of my way!” 

_ You did this,  _ that angry and destructive voice Catra had haphazardly nutured her whole life screamed,  _ look at what you fucking did!  _ The shouting of instructions and commands from everyone from Sea Hawk to the materializing Entrapta, the quick circle that formed right at the edge Catra pushed Glimmer in ready to receive her when Adora saved her, it was happening around her but not with her. Even Marshmallow got up from her seat to offer help in those six inch pumps. And Scorpia? The only person who stuck her neck out for Catra? She wouldn’t even look at Catra.

Catra tried to move forward, to join the rescue party of the calamity  _ she  _ caused, only to find her legs were falling numb. She tried to scream- to shout, to cry, to say  _ anything-  _ but air was leaving her lungs faster than she could keep it pumping through her blood stream.

_ Why couldn’t she scream anymore? Her throat seemed to be choking on its own muscle and the water suffocating her mouth couldn’t be far behind. Catra had been trying to cry out into the dark, her voice echoing back to her in the water, for Charlie. As if he could come to  _ her.  _ He was probably already dead; being Hordak’s son and thrown into her reckless care, he never stood a chance. Catra had been under the water longer than she’d even been alive, long enough to accept she was gonna die this way. Limbs going numb only feeling the cold, there was another darkness coming for her that was beyond the black of her obstructed vision. _

_ And the fucked up part was, she wanted that darkness to take her, to lead her to something past this pain because there  _ had  _ to be something past it. What, like she was going to live a happy life trapped in Hordak’s house, forced to watch his kid and get the crumbs of the empire  _ she  _ was supposed to be running? Everyone who “loved” her left her. Everyone who once needed her tossed her aside. Honestly, Catra’s life had been one big mistake. A blotch of red ink on the plans of the lives she crossed paths with.  _

_ Who knew? Maybe Selena would be there to meet her on the other side of this new darkness. _

_ There was a grip on her shoulder and the darkness beyond abandoned her just like that. Catra knew by the angry curl of the fingers into her hoodie that it wasn’t her birth mom coming to save her like she always dreamed of.  _ Hordak.  _ Her lungs already beginning to relax, she was shocked back into consciousness when air- actual air! Holy shit!- hit her like the unforgiving pool wall the hand that brought her to the surface dragged her over. A fresh wave of water went through her nostrils as her caretaker dragged her onto the deck, skinning the knees exposed by the deliberate cuts in her jeans. God, how she wanted to pass out. Like hell would he let her. Catra’s hands caught her right before she collapsed onto Hordak’s dress shoes, her coughing violent and leaving her lungs raw as fuck. _

“I got her!” Adora’s head popped out from the dark blue of Mermista’s infinity pool and a sparkling pink head of hair joined her a millisecond afterward.  _ She- she isn’t breathing.  _ All of Catra’s hopes that Glimmer would come out of this alive to hate her guts, send her to prison, make sure she never saw Adora ever again or whatever, were extinguished when she caught sight of the way her jaw was hanging open and her eyes were closed. At Adora and Glimmer’s appearance, Sea Hawk and Frosta and Marshmallow decided it was appropriate to cheer. Everyone who was taking this seriously had the brains to keep quiet. 

Somewhere in Catra’s head she thought to call 9-1-1. As hard of a time she’d have explaining how her jealous rage almost got someone killed (again) Glimmer’s life was at fucking stake.  _ I left my phone at the bar, if I could just move, god damnit! Why can’t I fucking move? _

“I know mouth to mouth!” Scorpia was shouting, “We had to take it as assistant managers, I’m a pro at this, I promise.”

“Just give her some space,” Mermista stopped her with a hand to the shoulder.

“Glimmer!” Catra knew she was gonna carry this sin until the day she really did die, but hearing the way Bow shouted her name through tears was more than enough punishment. He rushed to her side with no second thoughts and sandwiched her between him and Adora, stifling tears and choking on worry.

The whole damn world fell silent-  _ act you idiots! She’s not breathing! Let Scorpia in there!-  _ as they waited for an unresponsive Glimmer to miraculously become responsive. Catra knew screaming at them to get off their asses before the brain damage was permenant would do nothing, not when they all hated her guts, and figured the only option was to get to her fucking phone. Except her dumb dissociating body wouldn’t listen to her. Catra’s brain was here, sort of, but her body was remembering something else. Freedom wouldn’t find her until it saw that through.  _ Jesus Christ, this jumping in the pool for Charlie all over again- _

A cough. A couple of gasps. And then a miracle that surprisingly, they didn’t work for. “Adora?” Glimmer hiccuped. 

“Glimmer?” Adora broke into tears and Catra tried to chastise herself. This was not the time to feel paralyzed by the love in her girlfriend’s eyes- for someone else. Not when Catra had gotten lucky a second time around, “Oh my God, you’re okay! You’re okay, you’re okay!”

“Oh thank God,” Bow hugged her shivering body closer. 

“What happened?” murmured Glimmer, opening glazed eyes, squeezing Bow’s hand. And even though Catra knew it was coming, it still hurt like a bitch.

Ocean eyes met split ones like so many times before. But it wasn’t like  _ any _ of those times, because there was a storm of hatred in those oceans Catra knew she wouldn’t survive. She tried to take a step backward only to falter on a shaking leg.

_ “What did you do?” Hordak roared; he didn’t wait for the water Catra was vomiting up to stop. Yanking his grip on her hoodie, he continued his raging tirade with her too weak and too far gone to fight back. “I leave you alone with one simple responsibility and instead you take advantage of it!” _

_ “Hordak, I-”  _

_ “Look at me when you’re speaking to me, Leon! Have you no respect? You attempt to take my son’s life and expect no consequences?” her foster father yelled so loud her entire body shook, and not from the cold quickly draining her resilience.  _

_ Consequences. Consequences for an accident were no different in his book than consequences for disrespect. She almost laughed at his hypocrisy. Wet dripping curls shielding her face, Catra raised her eyes to Hordak because she knew if she didn’t, he wouldn’t have the mercy that the water did.  _

_A whimper escaped her throat when she saw the look on his face. Hordak was angry all the time, didn’t matter if Catra had done something wrong. But this… what was in his eyes was _more_ than anger, _more_ than hatred he carried around and it rendered her to a crying, pathetic baby at his feet. _Are you going to kill me? _Catra wanted to ask, but fear had filled her lungs and paralyzed her throat._ _She didn’t want to die at his hands. She wanted to be brave. _

_ Blinking the water from her eyes- were they tears or was it just pool water, guess she’d never know- Catra swallowed the bile burning her mouth. At least Charlie looked okay. Regan, Hordak’s current sidepiece, was cradling him and rubbing his back as he fussed into her shoulder. So Catra hadn’t gotten him killed. Just turned his hands and feet blue. As frozen with fear as she was, relief that he was alive let her heart relax just a little.  _

“You uh, you fell in the pool.'' Back in the real world, Bow was explaining to a half conscious Glimmer, their fingers intertwined a painful reminder of Catra had almost taken from them. Glimmer’s dark eyes narrowed in Catra’s direction, sending a shiver of tormented guilt up Catra’s scarred back. She looked then to Adora knowing that her roommate wouldn’t sugar coat the truth. God, Catra was  _ fucked. _ “But you’re fine now!”

“I don’t,” Glimmer coughed and Adora gripped her hands tighter, “I don’t feel fine.”

“That’s because you may have sustained a head injury!” Entrapta blurted out, her appearance next to Bow shielding Glimmer’s body a shock and surprise to everyone, drowning victims included.  _ Why is she  _ always  _ doing that? _

Adora hurried to get a look at Glimmer’s forehead. Wow, the universe was really going to draw this out and force Catra to stand watch as the only person she’d ever well, cared for, dotted over another woman with all the bedside manner of someone more than a friend, wasn’t it? She almost laughed at the universe’s hypocrisy. They really all were going to lose their shit over this, weren’t they? Dipshits weren’t even bright enough to call the paramedics, happy to throw Glimmer’s life into Entrapta’s less than professional hands, but whatever trauma the Queen of Bright Moon’s lungs or brain sustained, whatever chance she had of a secondary drowning,  _ that  _ was always gonna be on Catra. 

And if these people didn’t like her before, then Catra really was about to lose everything. Scorpia risked a glance in her best friend’s direction, squeezing the life out of her lobster hat in her nervous hands. Emphasis on  _ everything. _

“I don’t-” stuttered Adora as Glimmer groaned into her shoulder, “I don’t see a bump!”

“Yes, there may not be any swelling present but I saw her hit her head on the adjoining pool wall when Catra pushed her in,”  _ I didn’t fucking mean to!  _ “You weren’t under water for more than forty five seconds before Adora rescued you,”  _ Forty five seconds? That’s- that’s way less than Charlie and I spent before Hordak and Regan got to us. Oh yeah, Jauregui, that gets you off of doing this to her. Fuck! “ _ so I am not as worried about drowning complications as I am about a concussion. I believe it is in your best interest that I monitor your vitals for the next couple of hours.”

“Uh, how are you going to do that?” asked Mermista.

Entrapta’s purple eyebrows flew up in excitement.  _ Oh God. I’d rather we call the actual authorties and the cops arrest me on attempted murder than go through with this shit.  _ “I’ll need a first aid kit and an iPad.”

“We can definitely provide those things!” Sea Hawk affirmed with a wink. 

Perfuma stepped forward to offer support, “C’mon Glimmer, let’s get you inside. We can turn on Mermista’s fireplace and get you all warmed up.” 

“Oh hey, if we’re moving the party inside, then might I suggest going forward with the movie? I know it’s a little early for our annual roast of  _ my  _ favorite film, but do you think it would work as a distraction, dear Glimmer?” Sea Hawk blabbered on, stroking his chin as Bow and Adora each lifted Glimmer up on the paved ground. 

“Actually,” Mermista rubbed Sea Hawk’s back, “that’s not a bad idea babe. You get the white wine-”

“Hey, um, I can’t drink that either!”

“-I’ll pop the popcorn.”

“Why can’t  _ I  _ pop the popcorn?” whined Mermista’s not boyfriend.

“Uh, you  _ always  _ burn it. Plus I can do it the fancy way, you know, like over the stove top.”

“Oh this is awesome! I mean, it’s not awesome that you almost died Glim,” Catra winced as Frosta jumped up and down in unapologetic excitement. “but we can totally make it like a sleepover! By the time we’re finished Glimmer, you’ll totally forget that you drowned!”

_ “By the time I’m finished with you,” Hordak’s growls crescendoed, his grip on Catra shaking with fury, but never did Catra dare to close her eyes. Whatever her foster father did to her, it wouldn’t be like being suspended for eternity underwater. The blow would be  _ in  _ the anticipation, not because of it. It was best to come at this with both eyes open so she could  _ see  _ it coming. The second Catra let her guard down it would all be over.  _

_ His grip tightened and Catra’s stomach turned itself inside out with fear. Any second now, Hordak would come for her and that would be that. Not exactly the goodbye- or the karma- she imagined where  _ he  _ was on the other side of her subjective mercy, where  _ he  _ was the one awaiting her decision.  _

_ Any second now. Catra lowered her head, but not her eyes. Would watching this traumatize Charlie? Yeah, probably. What wasn’t traumatic as fuck around this neighborhood? Kid was gonna grow up to be a monster.  _

_ Any second now. Two for two. Drowning and then being a bystander. Would it make him more like his father or less? Would he even remember this moment, or just live with the emotion for the rest of his destined to shitty life? _

_ Any second now. _

_ But that second never came. The claws determined to choke the life force out of her never met her neck. “James,” Regan.  _ What? What’s happening? _ Regan was sticking her neck out for Catra. Calling Hordak by his first name, grabbing onto his shoulder and shaking her head. All of those things were a gamble with him in this simmering state. Why was Regan doing this? Why would she risk her own life to save Catra’s? “Stop. She’s not worth it. Come on, we have to get Charlie to a doctor.”  _

_ Not worth it, huh? Not worth the mess or the inevitable clean up. Not worth an investigation- not that anyone would give a ratass- or the work to make sure she never existed.  _

_ Not worth the windup. Not worth the swing. _

_ Letting go of her hoodie, Hordak forced her shoulder to the ground. “You’re right. She  _ isn’t  _ worth it.”  _

_ A small sob escaped her lips. His words of fucked up mercy rang in Catra’s head as she fell once again to the ground and her ear met poorly laid cobbled stone. It wasn’t exactly meeting her end, but she wasn’t sure how she was ever gonna bounce back from this one. To go on living in his house was worse than any post-death hell she’d could imagine. For all Catra cared, she could lie on the deck with blood clogging up her ear and pool water washing around in her lungs until spring came. But that was a pipe dream that was too good for her. ‘Cause Hordak  _ always  _ got his way. _

_ “Get. Up.” he snarled. His words were a warning and declaration: show this incompetency again, show this  _ weakness  _ in front of me again, and no one will be able to save you.  _

“C’mon Glimmer, get up,” Adora coaxed. Catra blinked and Hordak was gone. Her ear was dry, the fluid in her lungs the kind that was supposed to be there. In front of her was not the tyrant who almost ran her life into the ground and his blue baby boy, but Adora and Bow holding Glimmer up and taking her to Mermista’s back door. They were turning their backs on her.  _ All _ of them were. 

Scorpia glanced over her shoulder and the sad, disappointed look in her eyes was like a punch in the gut. Yeah, ‘cause Catra definitely needed that. So much for standing by her side and always protecting her.

So much for looking back.

“Adora!” Catra’s voice broke the second she found it, “Adora,  _ please.  _ I’m sorry, I’m  _ so  _ fucking sorry, you have to believe me-”

“Catra, stop!” Catra watched the muscles in Adora’s back tense as she started shouting. Her girlfriend, or basically ex girlfriend at this point, turned in around to face her in rapid movement, throwing all of Glimmer’s unsteady weight onto Bow. “Glimmer was right, all you  _ ever _ do is cause me pain!”

Regan was wrong that day, to stop Hordak. ‘Cause if Regan just let him end it there like he wanted to, Catra wouldn’t be standing here and she never would have to have heard Adora say  _ that _ . Had Hordak really spared her, had he really done her a favor that day if  _ this _ was happening to her? 

Adora had eroded her heart with a couple of words and yet all Catra could do was stand there watching as she turned her back for what was probably the last time. This was it. This was the car crash into the wall Catra always knew was coming. This was the end. Of them. Of her. And it was the beginning of the emptiness returning to swallow whole and for good this time. It was as easy as watching all of them- Scorpia, Entrapta, Marshmallow turning around to shake her head among them- carry Glimmer across the fold to find that end and that emptiness waiting for her. 

Catra wasn’t a stranger to pain. Fuck, it was practically her only friend. But this? Yeah. This was a new hurt, a bad hurt, that didn’t compare for  _ shit. _

And all that was left besides this new brand of pain burning into her skin was instinct. Her hand flying behind her, Catra’s fingers caught on the familiar fragile surface of what used to be her lifeline at this dumb party she never should’ve stepped a foot in-  _ never should’ve come here, never should’ve taken that stupid Uber job, never should’ve gotten up from that deck- _ and she didn’t give a fuck that the pressure of the grip almost broke the glass. A guttural scream that escaped her throat that seemed so fucking farway echoing into the atmosphere, Catra picked up and the glass sent it shattering on the ground, her own tears blurring her vision and keeping her from watching it explode into a million pieces.

Catra’s body wasn’t her own, just a modicum for a meltdown, on the prow for an outlet. Sobbing, she kicked and threw each stool down, her broken nails leaving four parallel indents in the faux bamboo and Marshmallow’s cocktail bleeding out onto the ground.  _ Destroy it,  _ something inside her screamed so loud it left her shaking,  _ destroy it like you destroy _ everything _ else! _

In a fit of tears Catra fell to the glass on the ground, the only shape she could make out was a tiny red blob. It was on of those stupid umbrellas Sea Hawk kept putting her Old Fashioneds.

“ _ All you ever do is cause me pain!” _

Catra collapsed into her sobs, the scars on her back colliding with the back of the bar, Hordak’s voice haunting her every thought.

_ “You’re right.”  _ Catra bit her lip until she tasted copper and salt.  _ “She  _ isn’t  _ worth it.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple months ago after s4 aired I posted a meme about wanting to know where the magicats were in canon on my tumblr and a bunch of y’all tried to point out background characters that were nods to Catra’s species. Did you catch *my* nod in this story? ;) ;) ;)
> 
> I would like to once again give a shout to my amazing beta Ren! Thank you so much for me dealing with my panic and worries about the story and for keeping me standing! Love you!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Please do not take this chapter as what you should do if someone comes close or does drown (a lot of the right things to do I did not include as not to make the length any more of a monster). It is imperative you call the actual paramedics (9-1-1 in the USA, know where you are also). CPR is a fantastic skill to have under your belt, just in case. 10/10 would recommend knowing it ;)
> 
> Extra, EXTRA important note: after posting this story, I am not in ANY state to accept constructive criticism right now. It's safe to assume that I never am after posting a story, and that's not to be disrespectful, but it's because these stories take HOURS upon HOURS to put together in just the first draft alone, and that's not including editing and the emotional labor of it all. Altogether, this three part story took me over four months to create.   
Please remember that I, like many of the content creators for fandom, am NOT a professional. I'm not a published author or a screenwriter. I'm not backed by a publisher and I don't have editors at my disposal; yes, I am very lucky to have betas to go through my work, but just as I have lent my free time to you they lend their free time to me. I don't have a degree in creative writing, I don't even study it. But I love to create and I LOVE to write and I love to do it for you guys, so I do it.  
I appreciate all positive feedback and the love and support for this work I've received. Like many fic authors, I would even ask for it at this point. But instead, all I am asking for this time around is that you as the reader respect this one boundary, so that I can keep putting works out.   
To quote scorpia, "please! I am a woman on the edge!"  
-love, Savannah
> 
> [brooklyn 99 hint for cruel summer (the uws sequel)](https://www.google.com/search?q=brooklyn+99+bill&client=tablet-android-att-us&prmd=niv&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwj59MiJ8dHoAhVSb60KHXJWBMoQ_AUoAnoECAsQAg&biw=1280&bih=800&dpr=1.5#imgrc=wPB45lHMRRKtyM)
> 
> See ya a click away. (I promise it’s worth it)


	5. afterglow (it's all me, just don't go)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mermista throws her annual pool party at the end of the summer, Adora sees an opportunity to further bring Catra into her life. But in the light of her glittering lives of her rich and beautiful friends, Adora unwillingly outs some Catra’s deepest insecurities, exposing a crack in their relationship. And when she pressures a sensitive spot within those insecurities, what started as a rift becomes a crack. 
> 
> If Catra and Adora can’t put their pride aside, they’ll lose everything they’ve built together. And if they can’t stop listening to the opinions of everyone else, then they’ll never be able to listen to each other. Can they meet beyond this conflict and come together in the afterglow?
> 
> A fight and makeup fic in three parts.
> 
> part 3: it’s all me, just don’t go
> 
> “You’re not the only one who’s bad at this girlfriend stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know that last chapter was pretty rough and if you’re here now I just want to thank you so much for reading and putting up with my dramatic antics. 
> 
> This is the payoff! The reconciliation, the communication, the fluff, the big reveal! It’s 34k words long so...I hope it’s worth it. I really went ham on those thought processes. 
> 
> One of the reasons this particular fic ended up being so, so long was because it’s the last we are going to see of the bakery crew (Frosta, Mermista, Perfuma, and Sea Hawk) as well as Marshmallow so I wanted to squeeze in those moments because those characters are not really going to be in cruel summer (the upper west side sequel). This chapter will start to give us a look at who we are going to see. 
> 
> TRIGGER/ CONTENT WARNINGS: c-PTSD, PTSD, PTSD flashbacks, child abuse*, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt*, police brutality*, gangs*, drownings, self harm*, blood*, facing phobias  
*mentions of
> 
> Please, PLEASE, take care of yourself and read at your own risk.
> 
> Remember, suspending disbelief is key here. I may have a handle on the english language but that’s about all I have a handle on asdfghjkl
> 
> ALSO, I know the dialogue you’re probably gonna recognize isn’t right. But context is key there, and it probably won’t make sense now but as we move forward it will, I promise!
> 
> let’s get back into it…

_ Thump! _

“Ow.”

“Oh, nice job Bow. You dropped her.”

“Hey, don’t lash out at _ me! _We were by the couch, she landed on something soft.”

“She’s not in the state to be dropped onto _ anything- _”

“Well, I’m not as strong as you, Adora, and you were the one who bumped her into all of Sea Hawk’s knickknacks-”

“They’re _ souvenirs, _my good Bow. Ugh, now where did I put the Roku remote? I had it this morning when I was watching House-Boat Hunters before the party…”

“-and all of Mermista’s fancy furniture!” Bow insisted over Sea Hawk’s narration of his routine of that morning. Adora’s roommate’s shoulders deflated while hers stayed tensed and guarded, a reflection of the state slowly morphing around them, “Besides, you know I’d never do anything to hurt Glimmer on purpose.”

_ Yeah, _ Adora turned away at the thought, _ of course _ you _ wouldn’t. _

But the bitterness leaking into her words and actions was turning out to be fragile and insincere, a false crutch to keep her standing as the adrenaline of the last ten minutes drained from her system and left her defenseless and without a drop of energy. Of course anger was no real brace. Just another emotion Adora fumbled and dropped, just another feeling for her to abandon shattered like glass on the ground. 

Bracing her body against an oncoming wave of vertigo and nausea, Adora swallowed. _ Oh God, oh God. _ When was the last time her whirlwind of emotions sent a physiological tornado through her veins to tear her apart like this? It made sense that watching her best friend come within a few feet of death (how many more _ lives _ was the universe going to dangle in front of her just to taunt her of her own uselessness before it retired the practice?) would send Adora herself over the edge, especially considering those seconds suspended in the dark water hoping and praying Glimmer would respond to her touch. Despite the fact the Glimmer was okay, she was here and she was breathing perfectly fine and the physical trauma appeared minimal, Adora knew she should be scouting out one of Mermista’s newly renovated bathrooms to have a cataclysmic break down -and because there was a high possibility she was going to puke- just for letting any of it happen in the first place. 

“Perfuma, can you start the fire? I don’t trust Sea Hawk not to burn down our house.”

“Of course!”

“Hey!”

“Alright, time for the popcorn master to do her thing.”

Only Adora didn’t feel the grip of that familiar panic around her throat, squeezing oxygen from her lungs. It was… something else she was feeling. Something else was happening to her. Dizzy was her head and her limbs were going numb, sure signs she was going to come crashing down in the middle of everything and everyone as if she was Bow about to receive a flu shot, a sensation Adora hadn’t pushed this hard against since- since the beginning of May, since the hospital and the car crash and- _ Oh God. _

“Mermista dearest, where’s the remote? Mermista?”

“Shh_ hhh _ , be quiet Sea Hawk! Glimmer is _ trying _to rest!” griped Frosta in a loud volume of her own.

“Uh, _ you _had it last babe!” Mermista yelled in from the kitchen.

“One would think that, yes, but it appears to be um, lost?”

Bow looked up at Adora in the midst of all of the yelling (Glimmer had a _ head injury _could they be any more insensitive?) his baby brown eyes locking into hers as he rubbed his neck, “Maybe you should go get Glimmer some blankets? There’s a huge stack in the garage I saw when I was getting the table.”

“What?” Adora lost the upper hand by starting to stutter, “I’m _not _leaving Glimmer, she’s hurting- and I- I can help.” At this late in the game, Adora _had _to be able to help. This was all her fault- well all her fault to a degree, a significant and large degree- and besides, what good was her blubbering, guilty presence if she couldn’t even come up with a way to help her _best friend? _Her literal rock and family? The rest of the group was floating around her, close enough to be of support for Glimmer yet far enough to make sure she wasn’t crowded (one of Adora’s first demands when the marched through the sliding glass door) all busied with one task or another that was meant to ease any discomfort their friend might be going through; Sea Hawk “stumbled” upon the remote- Perfuma found it under one the sectional’s cushions- and had turned to set up the TV, Frosta had busied herself making a footrest for Glimmer out of spare pillows, Entrapta sat muttering to herself as she pulled everything from a coil of wire to a stethoscope from her fanny pack, and Adora could hear the popcorn kernels beginning to pop from the kitchen just over the sound of Mermista singing One Direction’s “Steal My Girl” as if no one could hear her in the open concept interior.

The only ones who hadn’t stepped up to offer help were Marshmallow and Scorpia. _ Of course. _ No emotional detachment to Glimmer or culpability in her near drowning weighing her down, the Drag Queen had instead busied herself moseying around the room and eyeing the glitter and the gold embellishing the decor of the room. Since they had come in, Adora swore she had seen out the corner of her eye Marshmallow pocket an antique bronze spyglass into that big faux fur coat of hers as well as a clock constructed entirely from glass. Lucky her, to be so removed from this group and to enter in and out of their problems as she pleased. Scorpia, unlike Marshmallow, was not doing anything to entertain herself, nor make herself useful. As if to shove the knife further into Adora’s tangled array of guilt, anger, and flat out frustration, her (ex) girlfriend’s roommate stood wringing her hands and staring out the patio door in complete silence.

“Making sure Glimmer gets warm _ is _ helping her,” Bow pleaded and Adora threw her hands on her forehead. No, she _ had _ to help and she had to do so by being _ here _ . She couldn’t be another Marshmallow or Scorpia, off in her own world and ignoring the problem at hand for more selfish matters. Bow didn’t get it. He didn’t understand this urge that its claws dug deep in her heart, this need that went as deep as emotional abyss only a child that had never known the relaxing existence of _ just _ existing could possess. He didn’t get why Adora needed to be here because she was the _ only _ one who knew how to contain this type of fallout when life teased death. He didn’t get that Adora was untrusting of a situation that could turn on its head the second she turned her back, that she could _ not _turn her back again. He didn’t get it. He couldn’t get it! Bow always made an effort to understand her and to force back her spiraling, why couldn’t he get this?

_ I can’t afford to be distracted by _ anything _ right now. _

Because if Adora left Glimmer here half conscious on the sectional to go to the garage, or anywhere else in the house, that meant she would have to turn around and face the heart of this problem and the cause of this calamity. _ Catra _ . Catra, her (ex) girlfriend who tore her heart into enough shreds to hold the pieces like confetti. Catra, her (ex) girlfriend who had Adora thinking she might have actually for once found lo- _ no! We’re defintely not going there! _

See, this is what would happen if Adora left Glimmer to Bow’s watch, Sea Hawk antics, and the terrible architecture of Frosta’s footrests. Adora would get swept up in her own storm of emotions, would be rendered to a mess of no logic, and she wouldn’t be of help to anyone like that. The luxury of standing at the door, of staring out into the backward out of guilt like Scorpia, Adora didn’t have that luxury. For one, she wasn’t Scorpia (Catra had made that pretty freaking clear today). For another, Adora never had had the luxury of looking backwards in her entire life. Forwards was the only viable option. Besides, what good _ did _looking back ever bring her?

“Bow-” Adora started, her voice heated but her hands shaking, when there was a gentle tug on her fingers.

“Please don’t fight.” Glimmer moaned, most of her face pressed into the cushion holding her up as she pulled at each of her roommates’ hands. She just lay there, damp and shaking and defenseless to everything that was happening around her, and it brought a scream to Adora’s throat. Lip trembling under her teeth, Adora fell to the couch right beside her. Bow mirrored her actions on the other side. “You guys, this isn’t- this isn’t your fault.” 

Even though Bow opened his mouth to respond, Adora was speaking before she could stop herself, “I’m _ so _ sorry, Glimmer, that this happened. I should’ve been watching better, I should’ve been paying attention and not-” _ have acted like Catra and the things she were saying to me were the only things in the world that mattered, _ “-this _ is _ my fault.”

Adora’s shoulders fell, and her hand abandoned Glimmer’s so that her fingers could trace the four little dark reminders that decorated her skin. When Catra had her trapped under the grip of her nails- God, that seemed like forever and a half ago- Adora was incapable of moving any part of her, not just the arm her (ex) girlfriend had estranged. She was rendered incapable of breathing, of speaking, of screaming. Because there was a part of her that, in that moment, wholly accepted the thought that she deserved to be there. Because the woman that was bursting violently at the seams in front of her, delivering truth as tongue lashes to Adora’s belated ego, that woman was a mess of Adora’s own making. Catra’s pain was Adora’s fault. Catra’s anger was a result of Adora’s carelessness. _ She _ was the one who left Catra defenseless at the mercy of a Mrs. Weaver wronged like never before. _ She _ never pressed Mara into looking for her old friend so they could rescue her from Hordak’s claws. 

And in that moment trapped by her, Adora couldn’t help but wonder: who would Catra have become if Adora threw that fit to end all fits and refused to leave Weaver’s house until the state handed her over to Mara? 

Who would Catra have become, what happiness and strength and stability would she have, if Adora had never been in her life at all?

_ “All this time, I tried not to think of you as like the rest of them but you’re _ just _ like the rest of them Adora!” _ Catra had spit and screamed, and just like that Adora had returned to that backseat on the second Uber drive, when she faced for the first time the consequences of her rampant irresponsibility. There went any hope Adora had of making up for leaving her behind. It all shattered upon the ground they stood on as Catra held nothing back. All the work she had put into a _ useless _ effort to fix the past, to go back to the people they were before that fateful day Mara came, all that time she had spent trying to bend and break into someone worthy of Catra’s love and attention, reduced to nothing by Catra’s words. _ “You’re a coward! I can’t believe I ever thought _ anything _ different!” _

Adora would never truly be enough for Catra. That’s what these bruises represented, that’s what these healing marks would remind her for days. Nothing she could do or say or believe could change the reality that her worth was a liability in Catra’s eyes, not when Catra had become so venomous over a few honest mistakes, not when she had said _ those _words. What was the point in trying to play a game she was destined to lose from the start for a prize she’d never be worthy of? What was the point of holding on? And what was the loss in begging Catra to let her go? 

Somewhere in the back of her head, Adora had always known there wasn’t anyone who could look beyond her mistakes and love her anyway. Asking that of Catra given their history was just asking too much.

“Adora, no.” Bow was shaking his head and she made the mistake of catching his eye. Wincing, Adora turned away from the loving gaze of her friends, shaking grip still covering her new bruises.

“Bae, _ you _ saved me.” her voice weak and her body shivering, Glimmer squeezed her Adora’s free wrist with a surprising amount of strength. “I could’ve died because no one acted but you. I _ would’ve _died if you weren’t there. You can’t think all this bad stuff is your fault, right?”

“It doesn’t really fit the facts.” Bow, taking Adora’s other hand, added in agreement.

“I-” started Adora only to realize she had nothing to say to that for once. Her brain couldn’t exactly switch off the guilt, couldn’t truly shake the thought that if Adora had never let herself stoop so low as to start a fight with _ Catra _ of all unstable people right then and there Glimmer would’ve been fine, but leave it to her roommates- her _ best _ friends- to see beyond the contingency and be right there to assure her, even after what her recklessness and her selfishness almost cost them. But that was what made the Best Friend Squad the Best Friend Squad. This unconditional type of love that brought them together, that _ kept _them together. No err was permanent, no action unforgivable. And in the wreckage of the last three days, knowing she hadn’t destroyed that unconditional love and respect was like seeing the sun come out after days stranded in a hurricane.

_ I can’t believe I almost gave them up for Catra. _

Adora’s mouth twisted into a half grimace, half growl at just the thought of her (ex) girlfriend. _ Catra. _ God, Adora didn’t even know where to start with her. Trying to look within herself to examine all her twisted and bent emotions, all the parts Catra smashed and bruised (literally, in the case of her arm) was like trying to pull apart and sort through the debris of a car that smashed into the wall at 85 miles per hour (how many times was she going to have go through this in her life? How many brakes were left to cut?). For something so unforgiving that happened so fast, this hit-and-run Catra pulled would leave Adora picking up the pieces for Lord knows how long. Longer, much _ much _ longer, if Catra was hellbent on not going take any blame, leave the responsibility to her and walk out to let her clean this up alone. 

_ She would do that, wouldn’t she? _ Adora scoffed hoping for the relief of annoyance, but the irritation didn’t hold. It couldn’t hold, no emotion could for too long in this conflicted arena that Catra, vicious and spiteful, had turned her mind into, as her thoughts oscillated from a place of extreme internal guilt, and enough external anger to find the arsonist supplies Sea Hawk was definitely hiding from his girlfriend in the garage and go _ Picture To Burn _ on her longest lasting relationship.

Gazing at the tiny blood vessel Catra’s nails had burst under her skin, Adora was choked by the shadows that told her that she was not worthy of love, that she never had been and never would be because of who she was and what she had done, and that every word Catra had said in her rampage of anger was accurate to the fullest extent. She was a coward, a lamentable one at that, and she deserved to feel as this was her doing. But Adora blinked, let the second shift, and then she would be in another set of emotions-

_ “She just needs to let go of Adora! She’s hurting her-” _

_ “Get off me, you bitch!” _

_ \- _and in another place.

Up until that moment in the fight, Adora hadn’t registered anything besides Catra’s nails digging into and claiming no mercy on her arm. The physical pain erupting in a body part that was already injured and sore demanded the spotlight of her sparse attention, beating out the emotional beatings of being called a hypocrite incapable of change- _twice- _as well as the Princess of Cowardice and watching Scorpia be the person Catra wouldn’t let Adora be. That was the inscrutable truth about pain: it either transformed you into a rabid ghost of your former self and stole any remaining impulse control, or it beat you down until you couldn’t do anything. Catra throwing a drunken swing and a miss at Glimmer set something off in Adora, something that was at the best protective and at the most monstrous, and switched her stance from helpless and in emotional pain to pissed and in physical pain. Her uncalculated attempt to keep her best friend unharmed at all costs was the reason Catra had her broken stiletto nails so deep in her skin in the first place. So as her mind tried and failed what was going on around them- _Glimmer came to back me up, oh crap _everyone _watching us, ugh what is Scorpia doing here? This _isn’t _her fight! This is between me and Catra!- _her heart threatened to implode as she begged Catra to do the right thing and just end this. They could let this go if _she _just let go. 

Or so Adora was willing to think, that it would be easy and simple to amputate at the wound and seal the pain off, until Catra’s face became distorted in an unspeakable- _ familiar _\- and she took things a step too far. Catra lost control, gave into the rage and jealousy that was so obviously eating her alive, and got Glimmer hurt. Catra lost control and almost cost Adora one of the important people in her whole world.

How could Catra be so _ careless _ ? What, did _ no one’s _ welfare matter at all compared to her bitter, hurt feelings? As long as Catra got her way, got to be that bitch, and got the last word in then she could wash her hands of this like she played no part in it at all? Glimmer was barely an inch for the edge of the pool and Adora knew Catra in all of her emboldened intelligence she wouldn’t be stupid enough to miss that. Hell, she probably took advantage of it, or even planned around it! An easy way to shake Glimmer and keep Adora right where she wanted until her near ex forfeited, and she could walk away victorious in this imaginary game? Wow, must’ve been _ too _easy for Catra.

_ But she said she was sorry, _ a voice nagged inside Adora’s head and spun her around to the other side of this internal argument as she watched Bow ruffle Glimmer’s wet hair and crack a joke, _ she said she didn’t mean to. _

A sob lingered in Adora’s throat, because she wanted to believe more than anything that part of her that insisted this was an accident like most drownings were, not a malicious way of punishing Adora for caring about people that weren’t Catra, but there was one specific detail that kept Adora from holding to that as the truth. _ The look on Catra’s face, _ Adora sunk her teeth into her lip until the stinging sensation was all she could focus on, _ she looked like _ her _ . She looked like Mrs. Weaver. _

“Okay! I got the fire started! Has anyone seen Scorp- Marshmallow, I uh, I don’t think you’re allowed to touch that.” 

“You’re not. I asked, _ repeatedly _.”

“Uh, yeah Frosta. That Popeye the Clown Doll is an antique, and it’s like four hundred dollars if you break him. Plus, he’s definitely haunted and once Sea Hawk touched him and _ angered _him when we were seventeen and got so possessed he threw up while we were taking the SAT-”

“Oh my _ God _ , Marshmallow _ please _ stop touching it!”

“- haha, JK. It was ‘cause I dared him to drink expired goat’s milk out of one of the yacht’s mini fridges the night before. Who wants popcorn?”

“You know, I still have nightmares about that. Both Popeye’s possession and the goat milk. Sometimes, Popeye throws up goat milk on _ me. _ The utter horror! _ ” _

Comparing Catra to the woman responsible for years of her torture disguised as ethical childcare (well, any child “care” was ethical in the eyes of the state so long as Hordak was buying them off and the only abortion clinic for miles was an asbestos filled ghost-town) was comparable to sin, or at least that was what the rotting feeling in her lungs was telling Adora when she dared to breach the thought. Catra wasn’t _ like _Mrs. Weaver in the sense of background; Mrs. Weaver grew up in a dirt poor family with five too many siblings during the recession of the seventies- according to Mara- but she never claimed a history of abuse or neglect when questioned in court. Mrs. Weaver wanted the enviable life she never had of wealth and power, and in that desire, she made a deal with the devil to get out of that dead-end town. Except every devil has its price, and when that devil called her back to pay off her debt, he stripped her of her accomplishments and made her the head of his orphanage. 

Mrs. Weaver made the deliberate mistake of walking the crossroads with Hordak; Catra never even _ had _ that choice. Adora stared into her bruises and at her band-aid until all her skin, pale white, red and pink, tan and blue bleeding purple and yellow, blended together as something Bow had told her came back to her. Something about why Mrs. Weaver would persecute Catra in an endless, inexhaustible tirade when she had an army of bratty children all deserving of her belt. _ “Sometimes normal parents, or well, people in stressful and dehumanizing situations target one specific kid while leaving the others alone,” _ Bow had broken down after Adora applied pressure despite his discomfort of the subject, _ “sometimes, they even favor other kids, but not for any obvious reasons. I haven’t studied it very much ‘cause it’s not really my area of specialization. Sorry, Adora.” _

Adora sighed, hot air hitting her upper lip, as her eyes fluttered closed. Why had she asked him that? Why had she come to him for a psychological perspective into her past- her and _ Catra’s _ past- when her first hand experience with someone with a PhD was a straight uppercut to her trust in the science as a whole? Why had she gone down the rabbit hole looking for answers about Catra self harm’s habits (she hadn’t told _ that _ detail to Bow, rather dodged around it and further abetted his confusion) and why had she let the conversation become about another topic entirely? _ “The really unfortunate thing about abuse is that really it’s a cycle. When kids watch abusive behavior reinforced over and over, they emulate it, ‘cause it’s all they really know, and sometimes they see it rewarded and then it’s all a matter of conditioning. Sometimes, _ a lot _ of times due to the financial climate and substance abuse, they become abusers, too.” _

Why did Adora ask about Catra at all when _ that _was her answer?

“So did you have to be exorcised?”

“Of food poisoning? Seriously, Frosta?”

“Yes! We had to get a Catholic priest because we couldn’t find a Rabbi. I dare say, Father Peter could get it.”

“He’s making that up Frosta. Any demon who possessed Sea Hawk would like, ditch immediately.” 

“Um, maybe we should just move on to watching the movie.”

“Fantastic idea, Perfuma!”

_ No, _ Adora shook her head, _ no Catra isn’t gonna be her. Not even by accident. She messed up _ big time _ but I won’t think that about her. I won’t! _ Fingers clenched, Adora did her best to will the image of instant satisfaction that Mrs. Weaver always wore when she tore Catra down, the one burned into her memory by way of steam, off Catra’s face the moment she managed to throw Glimmer off her and send her straight into a watery injury. Horror _ had _ replaced any pride Catra had the audacity to show the second it dawned on her what she’d done, and that was something that set her and their former foster caretaker miles and miles apart. Mrs. Weaver was _ never _ remorseful. She could barely scrape up the emotion in the face of consequence. 

_ Because it was an _ accident _ ! Catra was angry and not thinking and being a colossal bitch but she didn’t mean to go that far! _

“Let’s see, Mermista how do you pull up Vudu?”

_ But we were _ right _ by the pool. She had to know that. _

“Seriously, babe? You’ve done this a hundred times.”

_ And she looked _ so _ angry. I’ve _ never _ seen her like that. _

“You guys don’t have someone do this for you?”

_ But Catra was angry with _ me _ , not Glimmer. _

“Shut up, Frosta.”

_ She was really mad at Glimmer, though, she’s always hated her and her fatal flaw is basically jealousy. Plus, hurting Glimmer is the perfect way to hurt me. _

“Wait, baby blue mop top. You make your staff or whatever turn on a movie for you?”

_ But I guess Catra _ had _ been drinking. And I don’t think she’s ever gone out of her way to hurt someone who hasn’t gone out their way to hurt her. _

“Not since I got an Apple TV. Now I just do it with voice command.”

_ Ugh, she thinks everyone who looks at her wrong is hurting her like Hordak and Weaver did! _

“Look I don’t know you tiny child, but I kind of hate you right now.”

_ Because she’s _ traumatized! _ Nothing has ever been kind or easy for her! _

“That’s fair.”

_ You said you would _ stop _ making excuses for her just because of her past! Bow and Glimmer told you it wasn’t good for either of you! _

“Okay, so I have the menu pulled up, what a spectacular set up they’ve designed here, quite coherent, if I do say so myself-”

_ What do _ Bow _ and _ Glimmer _ know about surviving child abuse? About being _ trapped _ in that cycle? Bow’s got his undergraduate degree, yeah, and he’s been through some hard stuff and Glimmer’s got passive aggressive family members and a rocky relationship with her mom, but that is _ not _ the same thing! But _ I _ know ‘cause I was _ there _ ! And I know that she acted on an instinct- a really bad one- cause it’s the only thing that kept her alive! It was an accident! She’s not becoming Mrs. Weaver! I won’t let her! _

“-now, how do I find the Little Mermaid? Also, are we really going to drag it the entire time? I know it isn’t the most modern film, but it’s my favorite! Romance, adventure, the ocean, what’s not to love! Oh, I’ve found it, what a perfect segue-”

“Sea Hawk, _ stop _narrating everything you’re doing!”

_ Oh no. _

Her own irritated voice coming back to her, Adora’s eyes flew open in horror as it hit her that she’d just lashed out at her friend and sent the entire room into a pregnant silence. Perfuma held astonishment and shock in her expression, Frosta blinked an exaggerated couple of times and even rubbed her eyes, and Mermista came to stand by Sea Hawk in the center of it all before placing a hand on his shoulder. The co-host hung his head, his mouth coming up at a painful angle as he stared at his sandals. 

_ What did I just do? _ Adora swallowed. Turning her head, she saw Bow shaking his head and dropping his shoulders. _ Did I just pull a straight up Catra? Shit, shit, shit, shit this is bad. _

“Sea Hawk, I’m- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” she stuttered through her best attempt at an apology, her hand coming to rest and cover up her bruises and band-aid. _ Maybe Catra’s not the only one like Mrs. Weaver. Maybe she’s not the only one who’s got a lot of apologizing to do. _

Of course, Sea Hawk being Sea Hawk, brushed her off and straightened up. After years chasing Mermista’s selective attention and taking the hits of her merciless love-language, Adora’s blow was tame and nothing he couldn’t dodge.

“Oh, it’s alright Adora.” he told her, twirling his mustache as Mermista rolled her eyes, a sure sign things would be settling back to normal in a matter of seconds, “We all understand that you’re going through something difficult and personal. You know in times like these, I find music to be most helpful. Maybe instead of roasting my favorite movie in the entire world we could sing! Oh yes, this is a brilliant idea, most therapeutic, I’ll go get my accordion-”

Mermista put a stop to that going any further by throwing a hand on his chest with so much force it knocked the remote from his hand, “No Sea Hawk, no. Adora’s gonna be fine, she just has to work things out with Catra. Put on the movie. If I hear that accordion one more freaking time this week, _ I’m _going to burn it.” Sea Hawk blinked at her. “Please?”

Pouting at the loss of his chance to torture them all with his newest musical hobby, Sea Hawk bent down to pick up the remote before carrying out his not girlfriend’s wishes, grumbling under mustache the whole time. Adora watched, her fingers gripped so tight around her arm they were beginning to cut off the blood flow, trying to sit with the guilt in her stomach. What the hell was going on with her? Never was she _this_ bitchy_, _especially not towards her friends, or anyone who was trying to help her really! What had Catra brought out in her?

_ Catra. _Again, Adora grimaced, her thoughts tripping on her (ex) girlfriend’s name. Over and over she was coming back to Catra; the harder she pushed against any idea of her, the more Adora spiraled. As much as she wanted to move forwards and not backwards, it looked like Catra wasn’t going to let her. That hold she had had out by the pool and during the fight was still on Adora. Mermista even said all she had to do was work this through with Catra, because pinning the tail of her anger on her Catra issues was not at all a betrayal in their minds. Ugh, as if it was as simple as kissing and making up. Adora brought her bruised and punctured arm to her chest. 

Even if it was as simple as that, even if Adora could make this all go away by waving a white flag and caving in, nothing was ever simple with Catra.

But it was never for nothing either. Adora couldn’t say that about a lot of her life or of most of her relationships.

“Bow,” started Adora after taking a deep breath, “do you think I should try to go talk to her?”

Her roommate’s eyebrows flew up, “Who? Oh. _ Oh. _” Bow fell silent for a moment before chewing on his lip, searching for the right words that wouldn’t earn him the Sea Hawk treatment “Honestly Adora, it’s up to you. I mean, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to or are uncomfortable with, but… but I think taking a step back might be a good idea.”

“Take a step back?” Adora repeated, hoping her confusion outweighed the apprehension in her voice. 

“Yeah, you’re- you’re pretty wound up. And that’s okay, you know! It’s okay to be feeling _ everything _ you’re feeling. I just think that maybe if you’re yelling at me and you’re snapping at Sea Hawk for no reason, then you should go get some fresh air.” Bow explained, his brown eyes full of a compassion that had Adora biting down on her tongue.

_ Fresh air? You mean where Catra is? You mean go _ talk _ to Catra? _

Shoulders falling, Adora shifted her gaze to the floor. “Oh.” However comforting his words were meant to be, their well intentioned directions fell foreign on her. Now that up-and-coming psychologist Bow had made his return, Adora didn’t want him here. She didn’t want him or his advice when the knowledge that if he had just talked her out of acting petty and selfish earlier she wouldn’t need him now weighed heavy on her conscience. But _ no, _Bow wanted to be a part of the drama, to get his two-cent plan of revenge woven into Adora’s and Glimmer’s. To spill the tea and not stay to clean up the stain. 

Why did everyone else get to choose when it was okay to be petty only to lock her out of the emotion on consequential technicalities? Why was Adora the one who _ always _carried the burden of being mature? From day one at that stupid foster home to right freaking now, sitting in the wake of Professor Bow’s enlightened guidance. 

If everyone else just owned their actions and their emotions- Sea Hawk, Bow, Glimmer, _ Catra- _ then _ maybe _Adora wouldn’t be so hellbent on fixing everything because she wouldn’t even have to! Adora wouldn’t have to keep fixing things she didn’t even break. 

_ But I did break this. Catra and I broke this, together. _

“I think it’s a good idea bae,” Adora looked up and found Glimmer resting her shoulder on Bow’s. Her eyes were half open and her jaw was contorted like she was trying not to yawn “the getting some air part, not the talking to Catra part.”

“_ Both _are good ideas,” Bow, risking agitating her concussion by nudging Glimmer, corrected. 

“But Glimmer, you’re- you’re _ hurt _. I should be here to help you-” Adora tried to protest despite the sense of betrayal spreading through her throat, and the fact that Entrapta was two flat seconds from interrupting her.

“Don’t worry Adora! Mermista gave me her first aid kit and I have plenty of supplemental items in my Super Pal Trio fanny pack to help me check Glimmer’s vitals and look for signs of a low grade concussion as well as a pulmonary edema!” Entrapta half lectured, half yelled as she began unzipping the red first aid bag with one hand and digging in her red fanny pack with the other. Muttering a lackluster apology, Catra’s roommate pushed Adora’s knees away from Glimmer and wormed her way into Adora’s old seat, pushing her onto the other cushion and turning her back on her. 

“Go, Adora.” mouthed Bow, and Glimmer nodded in agreement.

_ Traitors. _

“Okay Glimmer, I’m going to ask you a couple of questions to test your cognitive abilities and see if they’ve been altered in any way. Now a lot of people tell me I talk too fast to sound coherent so just stop me if you feel that I am going too fast for someone like you.”

“Oh, um, okay Entrapta.”

Adora blinked. Where was she supposed to go? Did they really expect her to walk away from this, to leave an awkward situation for a massively more painful one that happened just to be where all the fresh air was? Too occupied in the instructions of Nurse Entrapta, her roommates wouldn’t even make eye contact with her. Guess with someone hogging her spot and Bow and Glimmer practically pushing her out the door, she was going to have to find somewhere else to have her complete mental breakdown. Preferably with something soft she could beat the crap out of. She couldn’t feel the pain in her arm if she was forcing pain on something else!

_ Is the bathroom still an option? _she wondered. At least Adora could cry in there while punching toilet paper and embroidered towels in peace. Bonus: if she was crying no one would be bold enough or cruel enough to force her out. 

Standing up on shaking legs and still holding her arm close, Adora’s eyes wandered the room for any sign indicating where one of the bathrooms would be, her fingers closing in a comfortable fist. Sea Hawk had successfully started the movie but had unsuccessfully stopped the roast, Mermista, Frosta, and Perfuma throwing in mean comments about how clueless and careless Princess Ariel was as they all crowded around him on a pile of fluffy towels as they attacked the bowl of stove-cooked popcorn on a couch opposite Bow, Glimmer, and Entrapta. Marshmallow was nowhere to be seen, of course, probably off stealing month old magazines from the bathroom, robbing Adora of her hiding/punching place. Adora tried to follow any sign of where she might’ve gone for a chance to kick her out (maybe also literally in the mood she was in), failing to see any trail of faux fur or MegaMart brand glitter, when her gaze took her to the last person in the entire room- no, she’d go all the way and say the last person in the entire world- she wanted to see, “Scorpia.” she whispered under her breath. 

No one heard Adora say the other woman’s name. Now that everyone else was swept up in some new activity to distract them and had moved on from Glimmer’s close call, it was as if Adora and Scorpia were the only people in the room. 

_ She’s still standing by the door. _

Water from her maroon wetsuit dripping down her thighs and onto the carpet, Catra’s roommate was a statue reflected in the glass window pane of the patio door, her twisted expression a map of guilt and sadness. Lucky for Adora she couldn’t see her (ex) girlfriend out in the backyard because just seeing Scorpia tortured as she watched Catra was retribution enough. Scorpia took so much of Catra’s bullshit out of a signature brand of loyalty only to get slimmer of the affection Adora received yet here she was, back on the edge and ready to undo her decision of walking out with the rest of them just like that. And Glimmer and Bow thought _ Adora _was the main reinforcement of Catra’s toxic behavior. 

_ Can I punch Scorpia? _Adora attempted to humor herself only to fault flat on her face. Again. Because the longer she stared at the woman gazing out the window, the more the muscles in her hand began to relax and loosen, until her fingers dangled at her side. The look of sadness for her friend in Scorpia’s eyes was bringing out Adora’s own jealous, nasty competitive side out of its cage; it hadn’t gone over her head the way Scorpia could waltz in and out of Catra’s space all day and end up without a scratch on her, and here Adora stood covered in Catra related injuries. Maybe it was the way Scorpia wore vulnerability like a badge. Maybe it was because Catra never let her peek behind the curtains despite it. Whatever the reason, Adora envied it and nursed the knowledge Catra couldn’t let their relationship be as open and forgiving like an aging wound.

She also found herself envying how Scorpia had swallowed her pride and tried to come back to her friend once Glimmer was settled in, regardless of Catra’s catastrophic tantrum or the fallout. Either Adora was too stubborn, or too hypocritical… or too cowardly to do the same.

_ I guess Catra was right. I am a coward. But it still doesn’t make what she did today or what she did this week okay. _

Something beyond Adora’s jealousy forced her in Scorpia’s direction. Something beyond having nowhere else to go, nothing to punch, and nothing to take her frustration out on. Something Adora was too cowardly to give a name to. The world moved on, and yet Adora was still pulled in the direction of the center of hers. 

_ What am I even supposed to say to her? _ Adora’s internal monologue fumed. _ “I’m sorry your roommate ruined the party when you were having a good time?” She was… having a good time, wasn’t she? And she risked that to be a good friend. Scorpia put herself on the line like… like Glimmer did for me. _

“Oh, this is bad. This time it’s really _ really _bad.” Scorpia was muttering under her breath, stressing the skin of her hands, when Adora reached her. Keeping her gaze on the other woman alone with all the remaining energy she could muster (Adora wasn’t ready to face Catra yet. Or, she just didn’t want to, that was still a possibility) Adora took a here-goes-nothing kind of deep breath.

“Hey,” she started.

“Huh? What?” Scorpia whirled around, “_ Adora? _What are you- what are you doing here?”

Rubbing her arm, Adora swallowed the bitterness of her pride before replying, “I- I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

“Oh.” was all the other woman said in return. 

Adora stood there in the awkwardness, shifting her feet, waiting for Scorpia to say something, waiting for the next right thing to come to her mind so she could say it first. Her resolve was dissolving and that anger she’d been holding onto with white knuckles was walking out on her like a ghost. But Adora was afraid of what she would see if she looked up- up at Scorpia, out the patio door- so she kept her eyes glued to the floor they’d all turned soggy and damp by rushing in here without drying off.

“Look, Adora-” Scorpia began all of a sudden and Adora’s eyes flew up. One second she was staring at the discolored carpet, the next she was face to face with the monster that matched her reflection. _ Catra, _ her heart lurched towards the door as tears welled in her eyes, _ oh God, I did this, _“I don’t know if it’s any of my business telling you this, but I think… all the stuff that happened today, it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“I- I know that.” Adora swallowed. Unaware of when her hand had come back to cover her arm, Adora was barely aware of the words she and Scorpia were exchanging. She was too terrified by what she was seeing to notice anything but what was out there in the dark. Sea Hawk’s bar had been torn apart; the stools knocked over onto the ground, the decorations thrown off, a shimmering of what Adora could only guess was glass littering the ground. And Catra? Catra sat dangling her scarred legs in the deep end of the pool, her tired and teary expression of numbness illuminated by the soft afterglow of the lights lining right underneath the water. Her curls were coming out of her ponytail. The Haiwaiin shirt was falling off her shoulders. Split eyes watched the water and didn’t wander anywhere else.

_ What is she doing?! She hates the water and hated me for not knowing that so much she stabbed me, so why- why would she be leaning over the edge? Unless she wanted to- no. Don’t go down that road. _

Scorpia kept going, her voice rising in volume as she gained more confidence “No, I mean, Catra _ didn’t _plan this. She didn’t want this! She never wanted to hurt Glimmer!” 

“Then-” Adora tripped over the word right as soon as she turned and made eye contact with Catra’s roommate. “_ Then why did she do it if she didn’t want to _?” that was the question Adora was going to ask, until she saw the unwavering look in Scorpia’s eyes and knew that there wouldn’t be any challenging her on this or on any of it. Adora had been so busy going back and forth, wavering between Catra’s history and the logic that pushing Glimmer wasn’t a purposeful action, that she hadn’t noticed how blinded she was by her own rampant emotions. 

But Scorpia on the other hand… Scorpia had noticed everything. The look she was drilling into Adora’s head was more of a callout then her words could ever accomplish, and Adora knew that not only was she losing the moral high ground, but that she might’ve never even had it in the first place. 

“-then,” Adora tried again, breathing through her nostrils “then what did she want?”

“To _ talk _to you!” Scorpia threw her arms up, splashing Adora with leftover pool water, “How could that not have been more obvious?”

_ Obvious? She sat at the bar all day and got drunk! She self-destructs, and somehow it’s my fault? _ Scoffing, Adora wiped the water off her face, “How was I supposed to know that, Scorpia? Catra didn’t talk to me, I thought she came here to tease me!” _ By being literally the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen and rubbing it in my face- title of your sex tape, UGHHH! _

“Well, we were trying to get you to talk to _ her _ ! If Catra went to _ you _, you wouldn’t have listened to a word she said.”

“You don’t know that,” Adora hit back, her shoulders falling and her resolve faltering. “Catra didn’t even try.”

“That’s because when you’re with Bow and Glimmer, you don’t listen to her! You listen to them.” _ What? _ _ That’s not true either! _“For once, Catra just wanted it to be the other way around. But you just hung out with Glimmer the whole time, like you didn’t even care about her.” Scorpia finished as she shook her head. 

“Of course I care about her! I care about her more than-” _ more than just caring about her, so much more that I’m scared to death to say the actual word _“-more than anybody!” Adora was trying not to break as she spoke, trying to keep it together and not throw her fists on the glass door over and over until it shattered, until she couldn’t see her reflection over the sight of Catra out there alone where she left her anymore, but she was bursting at the seams that Scorpia had unraveled, “-but I am allowed to have other friends.” 

Scorpia had the actual audacity to roll her eyes. “I’m not saying you’re not allowed to have other friends now that you and Catra are dating, and I’m not saying she can’t be possessive. I’m also not saying that you’re the only one who turned today into the mess it is right now. But _ you _ asked what Catra wanted. You and I both know that she gets emotional and doesn’t always think things through, but c’mon Adora? You really think that she pushed Glimmer into that pool on purpose?”

“I-”_ I don’t know. _ Once again, Adora was nothing but a speechless mess. Scorpia had dragged her over the coals without giving a second thought to the damage, but this was on Adora too. In thinking Catra’s roommate was just some unassuming yet nice bumbling worker bee always ready to go to war for her queen and not taking her seriously as someone who could hold her own, Adora let her guard down and opened herself up to this attack. Maybe it was for the best in hindsight; Scorpia didn’t care about Adora’s feelings and didn’t have her own as twisted as her bikini up her butt, so she was the only one who could say any of this and live to walk away from it. 

_ Do I really not listen to Catra when Glimmer and Bow are around? I know that I’m always trying to keep the peace between the three of them, maybe Catra thinks that I’m disregarding her altogether. Why is everything with her straight up impossible?! _

Dating Catra and trying to be an active member of the Best Friend Squad was about as challenging (and aggravating) as finding a publisher to take a chance on She Ra. Adora and Catra couldn’t be intimate, couldn’t actually _ be _ girlfriends when Glimmer and Bow were around and that was the whole reason Adora kept the Best Friend Squad out of their dating life in the first place. Getting Catra to hang out with Bow and Glimmer voluntarily was like trying to pull her teeth, and vice versa, because there was no interest from either party in playing nice, even for Adora’s sake. Pride before politeness, when it came to all _ three _ of them! Catra, because she was protective and possessive and jealous, and the Best Friend Squad because they were protective and possessive and jealous and- _ Oh crap. _

Adora bit down into her lip and her fingers formed fists at her sides.

_ I spent all day taking advice from my best friend because she’s my best friend but I didn’t ever stop to consider _ why _ she was saying the things she was saying? _ Adora almost slapped her forehead with both hands. _ Glimmer doesn’t just want to protect me from Catra, she wants to keep me from Catra because she’s _ just as _ jealous as Catra because she’s _ always _ been afraid of losing friends! _

The _ “I’m just looking out for you” _attitude was coming from the same person who threw herself in front of her Bow dorm door to keep her best friend from going on his first college date and first date ever (with Perfuma after they’d met in their Introduction to Ethics class, that was a weird three week fling) and sat on his bed pouting all night when he went anyway only to demand every detail when finally came home.

_ “Why does it bother you so much?” _Adora had her when Bow was an hour late and hadn’t bothered to so much as call his best friend, who was more than holding that grudge. Instead of glaring a hole in the door and refreshing her phone every three minutes for a text, Adora had dragged all her textbooks to Bow’s dorm and was almost too busy cramming for her Feminism in Literature midterm to take notice of Glimmer’s obvious distaste of their other friend’s plans.

“_ Because,” _ Glimmer dropped her head down, a look of tired sadness coming over her expression _ “it’s always been just me and Bow.” _ Adora had listened as she explained that never was she good at making friends or remotely successful at keeping them, and Bow was the first person in a long, drawn out list of names to break that pattern. Now that they were in college and no longer joined at the hip, Bow could make friends and even go on dates, because college was changing everything about their dynamic. It was changing them as people, and change was what had always left Glimmer in the dust. There was nothing, in Glimmer’s mind at least, to stop Bow from becoming just another one of those fake friends guilty of ditching her for someone more interesting and more intincing. No matter how hard Adora tried tripping over her own feet to assure her that that was the farthest thing from the case.

_ Did I seriously sneak that exact conversation into my own book and not think that she could still be feeling that way? _ Biting her tongue and blowing her cheeks out to keep from screaming, Adora tried not to throw her head through the glass at her newest realization. Of course she had no objective way of knowing if what Scorpia was saying about her prioritizing her friends over Catra whenever they happened to be around was in any way true (and given what she’d just remembered about the Best Friend Squad’s track record, anything was possible! Apparently!) but what Adora did have the concrete facts for, was that despite wanting to go in to save her and Catra’s relationship, she had prioritized Glimmer and Bow’s feelings and words _ today. _All of the past week, really. So determined to get what she wanted, what she thought she deserved, Adora had let herself be misled by desires that weren’t even hers.

_ Son of a bitch. _

Because Adora wouldn’t be staring out of Mermista’s patio door at the wreckage her (ex) girlfriend acted upon in a storm of emotions all because they took their personal issues to the public setting if she had acted upon her first instinct. If Adora had bandaged herself up and wiped down the kitchen with Clorox without intrusion, if she had gone over to Catra’s that night like she wanted to instead of giving her pride a chance to settle in and take over, she and Catra would be cuddled up on one of those expensive couches together, throwing insults and jabs at the movie like everyone else as Glimmer enjoyed the party sans minor concussion. Or they’d be somewhere entirely different, entirely private, like a taco stand discovered on a late night drive where Catra would laugh at her for trying the hottest hot sauce just to prove she could handle it and then draw a picture of her choking on said hot-sauce on a napkin as a keepsake Adora could hang above her desk. 

_ Are we even going to be able to get back to that? Back to her complaining about authentic horchata at a rare downscale Bright Moon restaurant and holding my hand when we drive back to my apartment? _Adora’s heart sunk to her stomach where she could feel the broken parts float when her eyes fluttered closed. What she had wanted, what she was trying to hold onto all this time was both dynamics, to have her cake and eat it, too. But what it always came down to was that no matter how hard she tried, Adora could not control the actions- or reactions- of other people. Catra had just reacted the Catra way; it was the Best Friend Squad, it’s documented paranoia of losing the safe and familiar dynamic they shared exasperated by Adora becoming serious with Catra, that had taken advantage of the fight for its own self-interest. 

Glancing backwards, Adora saw Bow watching over with careful attentiveness as Entrapta shined the flashlight of her phone into Glimmer’s eyes. _ They probably didn’t even know they were doing it. They wanted to believe so badly that Catra wasn’t good for me that they just did. Catra was “hurting” me, ‘cause Catra was hurting their safety net. Glimmer lived by that philosophy and then she- no, I let myself be dragged into it today. Catra didn’t hurt me today. _

_ I hurt her. _

Her entire body braced as Adora remembered what she had dared to yell at Catra when she had tried in vain to get an apology out. “_All you ever do is cause me pain!”_

Of all the words said that Adora would _ kill _ to take back, and there were speeches and speeches, that idioctic, _ selfish _ declaration took first place by an impressive margin. Why, _ why _ had she yelled that awful sentence of _ all _ the words in the English language? Adora blinked at her reflection only to see the monster in the mirror facing her again. For all her talk of making sure she wasn’t the reason Catra found herself relapsing, all her praise for Catra’s strides and intentions to better herself, what was _ any _ of it worth if falling victim to the heat of the moment turned her into a person that would dare utter _ that? _

Yeah. Adora would destroy a tacky tiki bar and break a bunch of glass bottles if someone said that to her. 

“Catra didn’t know,” Adora let out a deep sigh, speaking for the first time in a few minutes in her and Scorpia’s Come to Jesus meeting, bringing her hands to her damp and drying hair.

“Huh?” Scorpia blinked at her. 

“Catra didn’t know,” she continued with her fingers digging into her scalp, “that Glimmer couldn’t swim.”

“Uh, _ yeah _ Adora. I didn’t know either until she had to be rescued. Kinda embarrassing actually.”

Adora pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes, a little frustrated laugh escaping her lips. “I thought Catra saw that Glimmer was so close to the edge and used that to her advantage. Glimmer never learnt how to swim, and to Bow and Perfuma and Mermista, Frosta, even Sea Hawk that was common knowledge and I was what? Just expecting Catra to know something Glimmer doesn’t ever talk about even to people she’s close with? Wow. And here I was, _ so _ ready to jump to the conclusion she was becoming Mrs. Weaver because I was _ angry? _”

_ I really need to get _ over _ my therapy thing and just tell Bow to put me in touch with someone, like he’s been dying to since junior year of college. If I keep jumping to conclusions like this I’m gonna end up tearing another tendon. _

“Okay, you um, you lost me here.” stuttered Scorpia.

“I don’t know how to fix this Scorpia,” Adora whispered under her breath as she brought her injured arm to her chest, “I know I need to, and I know… I know I need to be the one to do it, I just… I just don’t know _ how _.”

Although Adora was expecting another straight up vibe check from her (ex) girlfriend’s roommate, Scorpia instead gave her a smile, a rather sympathetic one at that. It was the first time anyone looked at her as anything other than frustrated or hurt since they’d carried Glimmer into the living room. “Just do what you should’ve done in the first place, Adora. Go _ talk _to her.”

_ Is it really that simple? ‘Cause nothing with Catra ever is. _ Adora blinked before daring to steal another look out the patio door. Still Catra sat idle, her legs suspended floating at the edge of the water, almost frozen in a moment in time. A coping mechanism designed to shield her from a reality too excruciating to face. But then again, where was she supposed to go? Through the living room of people who she thought hated her ‘cause they had all turned their backs on her? _ I guess I’ll never know if I don’t try. If I just give up here. I _ would _ do that, wouldn’t I? _

“Okay.” Adora smiled back at Scorpia. “Here goes nothing, I guess-”

Except right as she extended her hand to the handle of the door, Entrapta’s voice once again demolished Adora’s goal of diving in headfirst. “In my expertise, you _ are _showing signs of a low-grade concussion, but they are somewhat minimal. I advise that Bow watches you for the rest of the evening for any of the previous warnings I mentioned, and then when you sleep tonight he wakes you in intervals of 120 minutes-”

“You mean two hours?”

“Please, Glimmer! I’m instructing Bow on how to care for you to make sure he isn’t liable in cases of permanent head trauma!”

“_ Permanent?” _

“Head _ trauma?” _

“Yes, uh, that’s what I said.” Entrapta continued with an air of justified confusion, “Remember, 120 minute intervals. That’s _ key, _Bow.”

“Oh, um, alright. I guess.”

Adora turned on the ball of her heel faster than the devil. If she was about to set out setting out the fires on all of the bridges she just tried to burn, then the people who had been all too happy to hand her the lit matches needed to know why. If Adora was going to fix what she’d broken with Catra, _ really _fix it this time, then those who had pushed her to break it were in need of a head-ups that Adora wasn’t going to be the only one changing her behavior after tonight. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Scorpia, reaching out at lightning speed and grabbing Adora’s arm with slippery fingers, chided “where do you think you’re going? You _ just _said you were going to talk to Catra! Ugh, see, this just proves my point. You put Glimmer and Bow above Catra.”

Adora threw her free hand up and threw Scorpia an apologetic look, “I know, I know and I’m going to, I _ promise. _ But this isn’t me putting them above her, I just need them to know _ why, _okay? Catra is not the only one who’s possessive.”

“Mmm, okay.” Scorpia released her grip as her mouth twisted, “but I’m holding you to that, Reign! If you go over five minutes with them then I’m picking Catra up out of that _ very _ dangerous pool and taking her home.” There was an unsaid _ “and don’t expect to see her again after that,” _ lingering in the woman’s eyes, but Adora wasn’t about to waste her time limit picking a fight with the wrong over-protective roommate. Like _ anyone _ was keeping Catra from Adora anymore.

“Of course, a fictitious scientist like you Bow can’t be expected to know that.” Entrapta was saying- more like boasting at lecture type volume- when Adora approached the coach, her damp feet sinking into the luxury carpet with every squishy step, from behind.

“Hey,” Bow, his arm slung over a rather bored looking Glimmer, protested, “I _ am _a real scientist.”

“Here we go again,” Glimmer muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes. 

“Just because I don’t blow stuff up in a lab without putting my hair up- _ really _dangerous by the way- doesn’t mean that the work I do isn’t meaningful.”

This earned him another eye roll. “Ooh a science burn. Real creative, Bow.”

“Oh, Bow I don’t mean to be offensive! I am just stating an objective truth that psychological, and other humanitarian efforts, are sizeable at best-”

“Adora!” Right as Entrapta was ramping up to be the next person pushed into the pool and given a concussion, Glimmer perked up at the right moment, her eyes lighting up as she saw her best friend. 

Adora gave a weak wave. She was _ so _ not ready to do this. “Hey.”

“What happened to getting some fresh air?” Bow narrowed his eyes in skepticism and Entrapata turned her head around in her first genuine acknowledgement Adora had been standing there. 

“Oh, um,” Adora pursed her lips, “I’m about to do that. And- and I’m gonna try and smooth things over with Catra- well, I’m at least going to apologize, I don’t actually know if she’ll listen to anything I have to say.” _ After today, who would even blame her for never wanting to see me again? _Taking a deep breath and hoping it would summon some bravery, Adora’s eyes flickered to the carpet. “But I just had one more thing I wanted to say to you guys-”

“Adora, I’m sorry.” 

_ Huh? _ Adora’s head flew up so fast at the sound of Glimmer’s apology the resounding pop in her neck startled Bow. “Wait,” she blinked, “ _ you’re _sorry?”

“Well-” Glimmer started with a certain blasé tone only for Bow to nudge her shin, “hey, ow!”

As the two of them exchanged a heated look, Adora put her hands up, “Okay, I’m confused.”

“I am confused as well. Log of Mermista’s Pool Party Subjects’ Hurt Feelings, data entry twenty two: Bow and Glimmer are in a tiff about apologizing to roommate and friend Adora.” added Entrapta. Out of the corner of her eye Adora could see the shimmer of her characteristic recorder come somewhere from her Mary Poppins-ified fanny pack. 

“Uh, Entrapta, can you give us a sec?” Adora forced a friendly smile as she turned to Catra’s other roommate. _ At this rate I’m spending more time with roommates than I’m actually spending time with Catra. _

A second passed for Entrapta as an awkward eternity eloped for the rest of them before she shrugged, eyes wide and expectant, and nodded in understanding. As she turned to return mingling within the party, salt water flying from her hair, hitting Adora’s face- again- and she was back to wiping it from her cheeks when Bow spoke up, “So Glimmer and I were talking, and we decided…” he sent her another look and she pursed her lips into a pout, “and we decided…” he tried again.

“Ugh,” Glimmer’s shoulders relaxed and her mouth curled into a pout, “I’m sorry Adora. I feel like I pushed you too far today with Catra.”

“Oh,” whispered Adora.

“And…” Bow continued, gesturing with his hand.

“Ugghhh, _ and _ I’m sorry I didn’t respect that this was something between you and her. And that I didn’t realize she made you so happy. Sometimes worrying about my friends does everyone a lot more bad than good.” she finished, a small half smile replacing her pout from earlier.

_ Oh, Glimmer. _

Adora met her roommate’s changed expression with one of her own as she sat down, tucking her hands underneath her thighs as to stop tearing at her pruny cuticles. “Thanks Glimmer,” she started. And she _ did _ mean that; to hear Glimmer taking responsibility for the way she shoved Adora into the deep end of a charade of hurt feelings and real life ghosting like Catra had shoved her in the pool did decrease the amount of emotional labor she was about to have to carry out by a relieving margin. However, that was not where this conversation ended, and Adora could feel the intensity of Scorpia’s gaze as her time dwindled fast. “I appreciate your apology. But- but it was never really about protecting me, was it?”

“I’m sorry?” Glimmer tilted her head, not muttering a hesitant apology this time around.

“You’re upset that I’m dating Catra,” the words flew out of Adora’s mouth under the overwhelming time pressure, each tripping over each other. Glimmer’s dazed eyes flew open and Bow’s jaw dropped in the slightest. _ Great, now I’m making another mess that I have to clean up, _“you- you both are. Because that means things are changing. Aren’t you?” her voice tipped upwards.

“Um-” Glimmer half stuttered, half laughed.

“You know what, that doesn’t seem right.” Bow shook his head.

Adora let out a sigh, but found that her attempt to try and recenter herself wasn’t needed. All the patience she needed to do this was lying steady in her beating heart, granting her a zen she wasn’t familiar with. Yeah, being honest was difficult. Being honest with _ them, _ a million times difficult. But Adora was tired of burying these issues only for them to spring up like weeds she didn’t have the strength to pull. 

“Look, I know you guys mean well and you _ think _ you’re trying to protect me, but there’s another layer to this, isn’t there? Glimmer, you said she was jealous and possessive and Bow, you said that I shouldn’t reinforce her behavior, but isn’t that what’s happening with us?” As she spoke, the faces of her friends fell and it was tempting to swallow the rest of her words. Something- her love for them and their little makeshift family, Scorpia’s ticking clock, her _ true _feelings for Catra- kept her from doing so, “Catra picked up on that, and can you really blame her for having a reaction? Yeah, she messed up today and this week, but- but I did too. I basically just told her she ruined my life.” Glimmer winced. “Shouldn’t I take responsibility for that?”

There was no response from her best friends at first. Nothing but an elongated, painful silence that cut her five minutes almost in half and sent her spiraling self doubt and regret. _ Crap, I shouldn’t have been _ that _ honest. What was I thinking? That I could _ fix _ things that way? _She dug her teeth into her lip, fingers brushing her bruises, and kicked her shin with bare toes. So much for pulling weeds.

As Adora fought the urge to turn her head and send Scorpia a look that begged for mercy as well as a second chance, Glimmer began to wring her hands and Bow let out a long breath through his nose. “I- I didn’t mean to-” _ to wreck you guys this much, but I _ am _ on a tight schedule. _

“No, Adora you’re right,” shaking his head, Bow whispered while reaching out for Glimmer’s hand. “and here I thought we were being supportive, but really we were just being terrible.” 

“It’s okay, Bow. I had every sign in the entire universe that this was happening and Catra had to stab me with a needle for me to see it, so…”

Those baby brown eyes of his narrowed as his perfect eyebrows jumped, “Signs? Like, like pisces? What are you talking about?”

“You know,” Adora shrugged, “the fact that Catra and I can’t have sex or- or even kiss actually in the apartment ‘cause you guys are always around and you get all weird about us touching. Also you leave the room when she comes in and the um, the couch incident.”

“_ Oh, _those signs.”

Adora nodded. “Honestly, I don’t know why the couch incident wasn’t the thing to tip me off. That was like a nuclear meltdown for you guys. Between the shouting and the _ disinfecting, _I should’ve known this relationship wasn’t something you guys were coping with and talked to you about it then.”

“Yeah, that definitely wasn’t an appropriate reaction at _ all, _ ” Bow laughed to himself before his gaze turned to their third roommate. Up to this point, Glimmer had contributed almost nothing to this dialect. And that made sense, given, well _ everything _about her closest friend’s personality, but it left Adora in a nauseous state, something other than pool water dripping down her back and into her swimsuit. “Uh, Glimmer, you got anything you want to add? Adora’s talking to us about it and I know it’s been bothering you.”

_ It’s been bothering her? Why didn’t she say anything? _ It could have saved this party a pretty serious medical scare. _ So possessive jealousy isn’t the _ only _ thing Catra and Glimmer have in common. The fact that they refuse to communicate almost makes them the same person. No, that’s weird, don’t- don’t think about that last part. _

Glimmer grumbled something under her breath and Adora shifted her thighs. 

“What was that, Glimmer?” Bow prodded her with his elbow. “You got something you want to share with the class?” Prod, prod, prod, prod-

“Okay fine!” Glimmer exploded before deflating back into Bow’s arm and the couch, “I just don’t think it’s very fair to say that this is all because _ we _ were jealous. Catra shouldn’t treat you like that Adora! Is it suddenly a crime to say someone shouldn’t just so we don’t hurt Catra’s feelings?”

Adora sighed. This line of logic wasn’t her strongest, especially in the exposing light of Scorpia’s, yet it was one Adora could still follow. And it was one she was still ready for. Taking Glimmer’s hand, she started, “Glim, _ we _were the reason Catra was treating me like that. We weren’t treating her any better.” 

“Oh, please.”

“Seriously, Glimmer! We left her out of things, we didn’t include her, we didn’t even invite her to _ this _ party! And yeah, a lot of it is my fault ‘cause I let our relationship be on the Best Friend’s Squad’s terms instead of our own, but if we’re gonna expect Catra to be better, then we need to expect that of ourselves! She doesn’t know how to talk about her emotions, Glim and- and that’s not an excuse, but we can’t hold it against her that she pretty much wasn’t in control of what happened to her for most of her life.” Adora tried, an edge in her voice that dripped with desperation. She was almost begging on her knees at this point. Glimmer, their hands still adjoined, turned away.

_ If this is what it’s like talking to Glimmer, then talking to Catra is going to take me for all I’m worth. _

“Catra’s got a _ long _ way to go, I’ll be the first to admit that, but even the person she is now is just- _ so _ amazing and strong and sweet and-and _ worthy _ . And I _ want _ to be with her, but it needs to be on mine and Catra’s terms, not the Best Friend Squad’s. All I’m asking is that you just give her a chance, a _ real _ chance to get to know the person _ I _know and I lo-” Adora’s heart skipped a beat and landed in her throat, “and yeah.”

“I mean, that’s not a super far fetched request, right Glimmer?” As Adora fell silent and fell further into the couch, Bow picked up the baton for her. Adora risked a look in Glimmer’s direction only to hope for the best; whatever was said next was going to have to be the last word. For _ now. _ Because it was no longer just Scorpia’s heavy threats of making sure Adora never got to see Catra again, but the knowledge that Catra was out there surrounded by glass, and incredibly flammable alcohol, and dangling over eight feet of water that was starting to crush Adora’s lungs. Maybe Catra didn’t need Adora and never wanted to see her again and Adora could swallow that even if she knew she couldn’t live with it. But she had walked out on Catra countless times before, and this time _ for _ Glimmer, and now she was starting to lose any objectivity of why for once it couldn’t be the other way around.

“Adora look,” Glimmer sighed after a solid minute of Adora choking on her own heart in her throat, “I don’t like Catra. Like, I have no idea what you see in her. I mean yeah, she’s hot that goes without saying but, other than that, nothing. Nada. Zilch. Goose egg-”

“Glimmer,” Bow threw his head back and put a stop to her somewhat ironic typecasting. 

“Um,” Adora bit her lip, shifting her legs to get blood pumping within them. Any second now she had to be ready to run. _ C’mon, c’mon, love you Glimmer so much, but please get to the point! _

“But if you believe that she’s good enough for you… then I trust you.” 

“You- you _ do?” _

Glimmer’s declaration didn’t end the world and, on a more important note, didn’t end with Scorpia reaching over the couch using only one of her godlike arms to pick up Adora by the collar only to throw her through the glass door. Mouth hanging open like an electrified fish, Adora stuttered for a few seconds before landing on, “So you’ll give Catra a chance? Like- like a real one? That means so much to me, Glimmer, you have _ no _ idea. All she wants to have your guys’ approval, _ especially _yours, Glim.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll give Catra a chance, for _ you. _ ” Glimmer gave an offhanded shrug. “Ugh, hanging out with her is going to be so _ weird. _We don’t have anything in common!”

“Me?” Adora tried, but Glimmer brushed her off with the flick of her wrist.

“Hmm, maybe we can find out when I get you and Catra joint swim lessons!” tried Bow. His expression was one of genuine excitement and support, as if he was three seconds from locating his phone and signing Catra and Glimmer- both of whom had the strength, will and moral indifference to beat him into next summer- up for the Guppy Class at the YMCA, but even Adora knew the only idea worse than that one was to show up a friend’s public pool party in the middle of a crazy batshit fight. 

“Oh ho ho, Bow. _ Absolutely _not.”

“Well. I tried. But I guess we really should try and brainstorm some ideas for hanging out with Catra.” Bow, undeterred now that he had decided- _ finally _\- to be mature, rubbed his chin, “Does Catra like minigolf?”

“She likes…” _ anything she can turn into a competition and beat me at, _“yeah, I think she’d enjoy that. But maybe we should maybe, uh, start a little smaller, and work up to that ?” 

Having lit up like a little kid from a stable non-foster home on Christmas, Bow gave a fervent nod and even a thumbs up. “Smaller! I can definitely do that!”

“Good, ‘cause I suck at mini-golf remember?” Glimmer reminded him.

“Oh, you do? I thought that was Frosta.”

_ They’re… they’re actually on board with this? It’s not exactly apologizing to Catra but it’s a start. _ Hands going numb under her legs, Adora’s stomach turned at this realization in a way that was going to send her vomiting all over Sea Hawk’s antiques. This was the victory she’d come over here to get and she had _ actually _ won this fight. Yet her lungs were constricting as if her body had made them her own internal stress balls, her heart racing to keep up with the ever increasing pressure. _ That means I have to go talk to Catra. I have to face her, I have to face what I did. _ Into her skull wove that aged fear that followed her like a shadow since she was a little kid and made her want to curl up in the face of fear. _ What I did...how _ do _ you face something like that? _

“_ Frosta _ was the one who hit Sea Hawk with a club because he made her miss the last whole because he burst into, you know, sea shanty.”

_ What if she doesn’t want to see me? Are those going to be the last words I get to say to her? Ever? Is this the end? If it is, I’m not… I'm not ready for it. _

“Okay, I _ vaguely remember _ that. Although, that does sound like something you’d do.” Bow was saying, “So, no mini-golf. How does Catra feel about maybe a movie night?”

Rubbing her arm and chewing on her lip, Adora withdrew her gaze, “I dunno. I wouldn’t plan too much, ‘cause… ‘cause I still have to talk to her and I have no idea if she’ll even want to see me.”

God, Catra was right. Adora really could be crowned Hypocrite of the Year. Decade, even. She’d walked up to this couch ready to rush through an important emotional breakthrough with her closest loved ones just to go and see Catra, to make sure she was okay both physically and mentally, just to do her duty as a good girlfriend, but here she was: too frozen in fear to act- big surprise there- and forced to do nothing but react. Because Adora _ wasn’t _ a good girlfriend; she was good at hypocrisy, a prodigy of cowardice, and… _ and running away. I’m _ really _ good at running away. _

“Well you never know until you try,” as dry as her advice came off, Glimmer’s supportive words were a 180 from her earlier destructive ideas. Still, Adora’s stomach was a pretzel knot and her heart beat against her vocal cords whispering a quiet prayer of _ oh God, oh God, oh God. _

“What if-” Adora swallowed, “what if she hates me now?” 

_ Or what if she could actually stand me for a few months and is now just _ back _ to hating me like before that first ride because the thing I’m the best at is messing everything up! _

“If Catra hates you now then I guess I get out of hanging out with her!” Glimmer’s nose wrinkled as she laughed, her face falling in sobriety when she caught the looks Adora and Bow were sending her. “Sorry, too soon?”

“Adora, I don’t think Catra could _ ever _ hate you.” Bow, grabbing her knee, stared into her soul with his baby brown eyes and Adora could feel the quiet trickle of her anxiety melting. Not by a lot and not with force, but enough to allow her a long enough breath to get oxygen back into her brain. Obviously Bow was speaking out of kindness and a place where he stood as a stranger in Catra’s eyes; knowing rejection did not mean knowing abandonment- _ repeated _abandonment- and so of course Bow could say that with no familiarity to what it could make you feel. 

_ What it could turn you into. _

“Yeah, this was _ just _a fight. A pretty nasty one, but every couple has at least one. My mom threw a pasta pot at my dad once because his family was saying bad things about her behind her back and my dad was letting it happen. But they bounced back, and instead of going to the Philippines that year, we got to DisneyLand, just the three of us!” Glimmer told her, an excited look of nostalgia on her face.

“And my dad banished my other dad to the guest bedroom after he found a typo three days after George submitted his paper for publication. And hey look, they’re fine! Plus, they realized they had to talk more and be less involved in each other’s work. I know that because of you know, Mrs. Weaver and Mara and all that, every bad feeling is some weird indication of the end, but it’s not. If anything, they’re opportunities.” finished Bow in a bow of eloquence.

_Where was THIS GUY_ _this morning? _Adora wanted to scream but managed to keep her teeth in her tongue. _Glimmer, what, almost dies, and _that’s _what it takes for him to snap out of it? _She blinked, trying to take stock of each and every one of his words, of how the happiest and healthiest couple she’d ever met survived a moment like this one. Of how Micah, the man who never stopped loving Angella even after his last breath, risked a physical altercation and instead of walking away, walked into a stronger relationship. 

And then there was Mermista and Sea Hawk, the garbage couple themselves, sitting on the couch perpendicular to them. For a man guilty of committing the ultimate sin in his not-girlfriend’s eyes almost ten years ago, he sure was enjoying the way her head rested on his shoulder and their fingers lay intertwined right now. If those two could survive the rough waves of miscommunication, hurt feelings, and intrusions by third parties, then _literally_ _anyone _could do it.

Including Catra and Adora. No matter how much it was going to hurt.

_“This pain means something, Adora.” _That's what Mara had said on her deathbed about Adora’s overwhelming grief, her last piece of advice before she left her in a world too big and too cruel for a confused and hurting sixteen year girl, _“It’s an opportunity. You have a choice to make. I hope- I _know _you’ll make the right one.”_

This week, this fight of sleepless nights and tears and blood dripping down kitchen sinks, had been leading the two of them up to this make or break moment and this, whether or not Adora got up from this couch, whether or not she made the right choice, this was it. 

_ Okay, I can do this. _ One more deep breath and Adora stood up on shaking legs. _ Times up. _

“Wish me luck guys,” Adora looked back and gave them another small smile. Squeezing her bruised arm, she forced her heart back into her chest and turned towards the glass door. Scorpia still stood there and met Adora with an understanding- and was that a hint of pride?- nod. 

“Take your time, Adora,” Bow cheered her on, “That’ll give us time to brainstorm the _ perfect _ thing to do with Catra. And finish _ our _conversation.” He sent their roommate a look.

“Oh great. Now I wish I really_ drowned.” _

“Glimmer!”

Bow dove straight into chastising her, holding no cutting tone back about joking about her injury, yet it went over Adora’s head. Somewhere in the back of her loud and busy head she was aware that her feet were moving her to the door. Moving her towards Catra. Possibly moving her towards the end she’d ruined the whole week by dreading. But this was the choice Adora was making, the bed she would lie in after the night died and everyone walked out of this house and went home. She could only hope it was the right one.

_ I’m going in and I’m just gonna go for it. Wait, I have no idea what I’m going to say! I don’t have a plan! _

Adora kept walking towards the backdoor despite this newfound panic until she found herself face to face with her reflection- _ hello, monster Adora- _and her hand on the knob. There in the afterglow of the water and the pool lights was where her heart lay, and this time instead of walking away, she was choosing to run, to jump, straight into the deep end. 

_

_ “Get off _ me _ , you bitch!” _

_“Charlie!”_

_“She _ can’t _ swim, Catra!”_

_“Charlie- Charlie-”_

_“I’m sorry, Adora-”_

_“Glimmer was right-”_

_“You’re right-”_

_“All you ever do is cause me pain!”_

_“She’s not worth it.”_

Being sober was a fucking bitch if Catra ever knew one.

‘Cause it wasn’t just the return to feeling, to being present in the fan-fucking-tastic real world, that Catra would rather eat glass then go through that was the worst part, it was the way that as her liver cleared any remaining alcohol out of her system, every disgusting emotion she’d been trying to escape and all the terrible decisions she’d made five shots down came rushing back to her like memories and thoughts under a strobe light while tears, snot, and bile dribbled down her shaking lips. It all came crashing back- the words she’d screamed that she couldn’t take back, the stupid, cynical actions she followed through on, the sound of the things she broke into a thousand pieces echoing in her ears- to kick her in the ass with a _ much _deeper bite than before, but Adora… Adora didn't come back.

Because irony was a cruel bitch with a hitlist and absolutely no catharsis, determined to undo any action distracting her from her pain. And that was the problem with drinking until the last thing to feel was her body kissing the floor. That was the problem with running away. Distraction, for all it was cracked up to be, was never gonna turn into real freedom. Now matter how much of life Catra white knuckled through.

_“All you ever do is cause me pain.” _

Everything, fuck, Catra could feel _ everything. _The tears that dried a long time ago on her cheeks hung around as crust on her cheeks, a taunting reminder of how long she’d cried like the weak, pathetic child she was by the bar destroyed out of anger. Anger that simmered in the tired pumping of heart and flowed in her veins to the soreness in her left hand. That pain in her fingers burned a bright reminder of how she dug her nails into Adora’s skin and had actual control of her for just one second, only to lose her when she ripped her arm away to clean up Catra’s mess. 

_“She’s not worth it!”_

No matter how hard she tried, to change the world around her and to change herself, there wasn’t anything Catra could do or be that could keep Adora where she wanted her: standing right beside her and not making a fucking beeline for the door. What, did she actually fucking buy into the lie Adora would stay put and be a good girl for once if she bared her teeth and brandished her claws? God, what a fucking Weaver move for her to pull; today was just one big reality check into just how _ much _of that monster of a woman had wormed her dirty little shadows, her dirty little tricks, into Catra’s DNA. 

And fuck wasn’t it one of many reality checks this soiree turned out to be? Catra is and was and would always be the bitch girlfriend, the jealous ex in the making, the batshit crazy chick, brain filled to the brim with fucked up psychological issues that all this Bright Moon royalty would run and tell their friends about. Wow! Jesus _ Christ, _she was a monster! 

And that part of her that would kill to be good enough for that woman that had just rescued a drowning victim- _ Catra’s _ drowning victim- while those other duds stood with their mouths hanging open was forever destined (God, more liked _ cursed) _to be overshadowed by the part of her that needed to be a bitch. That needed to be the monster in the room to keep strangers or anyone who could harm her at arms length. 

Seriously, what the _ hell _ was Catra thinking? Guess she just wasn’t! Just because Adora didn’t always act like she had agency or thoughts of her own that weren’t fabricated in a factory of Bright Moon Privilege didn’t mean she wasn’t her own person at the end of this extremely shitty day. Control was a bullshit illusion but somehow Catra fell for it face first into that pile of shit _ every _ damn time. She lost Adora _ every _ damn time. 

_And this time she won’t be coming back. You fucked up and made sure of that. _

She’d messed up before. _ Fuck, _had Catra messed up before; in front of two-way glass speaking into two way receivers, in front of cartel thugs and down on their luck gangsters, in one too many bars and in one too many back alleys picking on drunks that had one too many feet on her. But Catra didn’t need to be some emotional genius like her fanny pack wearing roommates to catch on to the fact that it was different this time. Oh, it was really fucking different this time, that was for sure!

‘Cause instead of it being her life on the line in all those scenarios where she mouthed off to Hordak or got into it with some wifebeating Hazing PD pig for looking at her wrong, the stakes were different. This time, with Adora, it wasn’t her life on the line, it was a life worth _ living. _

Of course shit had to hit the fan just when the sun was coming out. _ And which asshole’s fault is that? _Catra asked herself. The answer hit like her body hitting the chlorine water of Hordak’s STD pit.

_“It’s you kitten,” _ a voice Catra shut up long ago and buried back into her subconscious alongside hazy memories of strobing lights and three a.m. showtunes, _ “you drive them away.”_

Biting down her incisors into her lips until the pain was just another numb stimulus that worked for jackshit, Catra stifled a sob. Oh son of _ cunt _ she was really gonna start crying again? Here she sat in a waking nightmare, unable to move and to run, keys in her shaking hand, to Marshmallow’s Toyota and floor it all the way to her apartment because strolling through the crowd of Bright Moon Brats she’d all wronged in one grand mistake and sat stuck here until a meteor struck the earth and put her out of her misery or Sparkles had her arrested/kicked off the property and now she fucking _ crying _again? For someone surely drunk and dehydrated her agony was literally leaking out of her faster than she could sober up. 

_God, you’re a piece of fucking work, Jauregui. Cry, bitch, cry! Like that ever fixed anything!_

Like it would fix today, rewind it and give her a second chance, an answer to an empty prayer to Mother Mary of her Mami’s rosary on repeat since those nights spent in loneliness and insomnia in that little twin bed Hordak stuck her in. 

_“She’s not worth it.”_

Like crying would actually bring Adora back. Her eleven year old self would know. 

_“All you ever do is cause me pain!”_

Like anything Catra ever did would result in anything other than what this shitshow of a day was. Fuck! Why did she even bother? _ She _ was the problem wasn’t she? And that wasn’t going to change anytime soon- not if Catra stuck whatever stick was up all these princess’ asses up her own that made them so desirable and so worthy and so _ good, _not if Catra let the shadows finally take her and turn her into the monster destiny promised her she would be- so… why… fucking… bother, because

_“You drive them away.”_

Catra licked the snot away from under her nose. Stray curls, having turned frizzy in all the time spent in the summer sun, hung in front of her eyes. Combined with the tears that had made their annoying return they did a good enough job of blocking out the rest of the world. Of the expanse of glowing blue she braved having no fucks left for her own life left to give. Of the patio door Catra watched Adora, Marshmallow- _ fucking _Marshmallow- Entrapta, and Scorpia walk through without throwing her a bone of mercy. Bright and white, the light coming through the door was a puppet show of traitorous silhouettes-

_“You drive them away.”_

_“All you ever do is cause me pain!”_

_“She’s not worth it.”_

-lost in their own glamour. What a fucking disillusion. Catra ran her tongue over the cuts on her lip nice and slow as she blinked tears out of her eyes. Why couldn’t they all just _ leave _ already? Why couldn’t they band together and take Glimmer far away from her, as far as possible? How long was Catra supposed to stare at the white light of the room she wasn’t worthy enough to enter until the lights went off and she could walk through a darkness that welcomed her back? Until _ she _could go home, until she could run away as far from them as physically possible? 

As for how long she’d sat out here in the backyard, Catra hadn’t a damn clue. She was too busy reeling from getting sober faster than the human body could handle and trying not to collapse back into a pattern of self hatred and self harm as her memories, sound bytes that were summaries of her worst mistakes- _ “Get up.” “It’s you Catra,” “Save it!”- _were intercepted in her pounding brain by blinding, flashing neon lights. As for how long she lay in a puddle of her own pitiable mess of tears and broken glass by the bar Catra didn’t know. ‘Cause she couldn’t remember. What? Like she was supposed to perceive time while dissociating out of her fucking mind? 

But Catra knew it was way more than enough time for someone to come pull her off the grouted ground and slap some actual sense into her. Or if she was lucky, someone to take enough pity on her and envelope her touch starved body into a hug that squeezed all the pain out of her system. But she was never lucky. 

_Guess this was Scorpia’s breaking point, _ the thought was brief and poignant among her chaotic chorus of all the voices trying to beat the ever loving shit out of her at the moment. Catra always figured the loveable giant had to have one somewhere buried under all that unconditional love and support she gave out to the world without expecting a crumb back. Catra always figured she’d break that too, Scorpia’s trust and belief in her, like all the crap she broke in half today. _ And this is just another one of Entrapta’s experiments I ruined. Bet she has enough concrete data now to write a thesis on what a shitty human being- a shitty friend- I turned out to be._

Catra scoffed, sucking in a piercing breath to keep the tears from coming back as her thoughts wandered to her roommates. Yeah, those empty words of reassurance she told herself did _ so _ much. Filmsy fucking bandaids on a gushing wound that would bleed her dry in a matter of minutes and leave her completely stranded of oxygen to suffocate here in Mermista’s backyard. Her friends- her “friends”- turned their backs on her. How _ could _ they? They and their stupid fanny packs of hollow promises swore that they would be there for her today because today of all days, something worth actual importance was on the line. Today of all days, they would show up and be the Super Pal Trio, kicking Bright Moon ass and taking names; instead Scorpia and Entrapata were blinded by the lights of the stupid _ fucking _ city that took _ everything _ from Catra, lured away by pretty girls with bad tan lines, a pool deck brimming with data, and some pretty cheap margaritas. Lured away _ just _like Adora. How the ever living hell was Catra ever to compete with, to survive this sadness sinking into her stomach that her friends saw the monster and not the person screaming for help behind her?

_This is why I _ stopped _ caring in the first place. Why the hell did I go and have to start again?_

A shiver ran up her scarred back as Catra’s toes curled in the water. That last notion left her with a sickening sensation; she sounded like Hordak, like Mrs. Weaver. Like that suicidal twenty year old brat throwing every last one of her belongings in a carry on sized suitcase, headed for the farthest point from that dead-end town because someone had dared to say,

_“You drive them away.”_

Had caring been _so _bad? No shit, she didn’t do _everything _right, but she did some things okay... right? Fingers digging into the bricked edge of the pool, Catra forced another rush of tears from her eyes, memories of Adora’s smile, her laugh, the voice that had given Catra the strength to climb out of the hole that was her pathetic life slamming her consciousness left and right. That- a chance for something, intimacy maybe, that wasn’t just tangible but _real_\- is what Catra had thrown away in one of her stupider moves. 

And she couldn’t help but wonder, like all those times she fell into the trap of security before, if she would’ve been better off if she never had it at all. If Adora had never stumbled into her backseat wearing those terrible, godawful heels and never pushed her further, would there even be this giant emptiness in Catra that no one else’s stupidly beautiful smile was capable of fulfilling? If when that social worker brought Catra to Mrs. Weaver’s doorstep and Adora was not there to be punished or abused… or to be her friend… would their lives- would _ Adora’s _life- be better off?

Would a severed soul be happy, having never known there was another half? Catra could’ve chased after that high, destroying her life within an inch night after night, without Adora. Without Scorpia. Or Entrapta, or Marshmallow, or anyone who gave a fuck about her that they could rescind the instant Catra made one sloppy decision. With nobody around to stop her from destroying herself, there was also no else and nothing to live for.

_At least Adora will be fine without me and after this all falls apart when she dumps me. Being a Bright Moon princess has its perks. She doesn’t _ need _ someone like me to have a good life. _ Kicking her feet back and forth, the chilling water lapped at her legs as Catra traced the Horde insignia tattoo, the fading one she’d carved into her knee last Sunday on a rare kick of creativity, and she let out a hiccupy sigh. This was the end, the car crash she’d been bracing herself for. Except instead of some other force cutting the brakes, Catra had slammed her goddamn foot down on the accelerator so fast she took it all out in the blink of her split eyes. For Adora she couldn’t even find the balls to communicate so _ who _ could she do it for? Definitely not _ herself, _ no fuck that. Catra had almost drowned Glimmer in the pool, turned her girlfriend against her, and broke the trust of her roommates’ all because she couldn’t do that one fucking thing; she couldn’t just talk to Adora like a human being! _ And I have to be punished for that, don’t I Mrs. Weaver? For being a bad kitten? _

_“It’s you kitten,”_

_“All you ever do is cause me pain!”_

_“She’s not worth it.”_

_“What do we do to bad kittens?”_

_“You drive them away.”_

That get-fucked-Catra self-flaggelating attitude that had gotten her into this dumb caring mess in the first place was the same one that had brought to the edge of Mermista’s watery death pit. Crying on the ground as shards of glass pricked had been a great treat and all, but why not go all the way and embrace that sadism that had long passed a simple cry for help. 

It wasn’t like anyone was coming for her anymore anyway.

In a mess of snot and heavy, forced breaths of false strength, Catra had crawled her way to the edge of the blue and stared into the deep at a blurry rendition of her own reflection until all sense was gone. She knew that in the dark the water couldn’t capture the redness of her puffy eyes, or the way her lips were shaking. But Catra did know that with every molecule in her being that she _ hated _ what the water showed backed to her, of what it did manage to capture. A deep and fuming loathing that started in her gut and wormed its way to her brain was all Catra could feel for that little Weaver wannabe staring back at her. And behind that, a much sharper anger was reserved for that scared little girl that Catra could see beyond the monster, for not being strong enough, or loveable enough, or _ good _enough.

The weight of the water droplets that had flown onto her face when Catra drove her fist straight into that watery reflection was heavy on her cheeks still. All her stupid crying hadn’t washed the heavy feel of it away. She blinked, trying to grasp at what happened after she had torn through the water with claw-like nails and let out a guttural cry; somehow the sound of her heavy breathing had faded into the background and that self hatred humming in her heart finally sat the fuck down. Somehow her feet ended up in the water, a steady coldness numbing her legs and keeping her anchored to this god awful reality. God knew how the hell that even happened or how she gave up her stubbornness long enough to surrender her fear. Guess this summer was the fucking apocalypse, the end times.

At least for her.

Somewhere and somehow in the onslaught of her memories- _ “She can’t swim!” “What do we do to bad kittens?” “Get. Up.”- _ Catra had ended up here. Right on the brink of her worst nightmare, her exposed skin splashing around in water as if the same substance hadn’t burned layers of it off her back just almost a decade and a half ago, because nothing really mattered anymore. Her life worth living was going to end because of _ one _ mistake and she was going to lose the only people worth giving a damn about in her entire life over it, so could that deep traumatized part of her that made up most of her personality even care if she stuck her feet straight into an unforgiving eight foot death trap? Nothing. Mattered. Anymore. Not even her anger or her hatred or her fear. Catra could let it all go- with claw marks indented deep from where she held onto all those years just so something would keep her going, keep her alive- right here at the edge of the water.

Maybe sitting here was just another punishment Catra was carrying out on herself in Weaver’s shadow. Maybe all those years of dancing around alcohol abuse, giving up self harm only to relapse right back into again, sleeping away day after day and pushing anyone who dared to care about her away, maybe those were just punishments inflicted by her own hand. With her foster mother tucked away in the ass crack of Arizona, possibly gone but sure as hell not forgotten, someone had to give Catra what was coming to her. For being the child who misbehaved, the crazy ex-girlfriend, the super shitty friend.

The bad kitten.

Not that this epiphany mattered for shit anyway. Nothing mattered at this point and Catra’s pruney toes pushing saltwater back and forth proved that. So like she gave a fuck if she discovered the source of the infection minutes before it completely took her out and killed her. Catra could hardly give a flying fuck about anything as she was engulfed in bad memory after bad memory, suffocating emotion after suffocating emotion, losing her will to stay treading on the surface. And if she faded away, for good, on the edge of this tacky infinity pool where she’d almost drowned a person, at least Catra could say she had faced _ one _of her fears by the end.

_“You drive them away.”_

_“Charlie!”_

_“Glimmer!” _

_“What do we do to bad kittens?”_

_“You’re right,”_

_“All you ever do is cause me pain!”_

_“She’s not worth it.”_

Yeah, Catra blinked. One fear of too fucking many.

_Splash!_

“Huh-sh_ it!” _ Catra’s first addled thought- _ what, what the _ hell _ was happening _ \- when it registered somewhere in her brain that the sound of disrupted water wasn’t actually coming from one of her memories of Charlie/Glimmer falling into their almost deaths on replay became a squeal as water (actual water, what the _ fuck _was going on) hit her forehead and her throat, tired from her hellish mix of scream-crying, threatened to give out. Of course the embarrassment of squeaking had to rip her right out of her giving-a-fuck-no-longer-in-service near suicidal attitude and threw her face first right back into the massive brick wall that was this failing reality.

Hands coming to her forehead to furiously wipe away the pool water, confusion enveloped any embarrassment Catra had. _ Who the hell is here? What, is Mermista having some sort of after party where even more Bright Moon assholes come and trash her backyard while laughing and pointing fingers at me? Perfect! That’s _ just _ what I need. Why can’t they just leave me the _ fuck _ alone? _

But when no other sounds echoed in the seconds that followed, Catra swallowed ‘cause that could _ not _ be a good sign, and she never was one to come out of situations like these unscathed. Her confusion spiraled in her stomach and soured. _ Oh God, seriously? What do they even want from anymore? And why can’t they just get it over with so I can fucking go home? Please, I just want to go home. _

Toes curling and nails cutting into the pool’s brick edge, Catra let out a breath of hot air through her nostrils, blinking once, before looking up to see whatever cunt- could she even handle them half sober?- that had only been streaks of gold in her line of sight decided it was their rightful turn to take a swing at her. 

And then split eyes met ocean ones. 

“A-Adora?”

“Hey, Catra.”

The softness in her greeting followed her voice all the way from where she stood bouncing at the shallow end of the pool, and two separate urges promised to rip Catra apart. Adora was somehow here, the glitter of her swimsuit reflected in the gentle lights burning beneath the pool surface, and Catra wanted to scurry backwards as fast as her drunk and tired body could take her away. There was no way this was real and actually happening. No, _ no, _ Catra had fucked everything up, she’d gone way too far this time and had done the unforgivable; Adora couldn’t… Adora _ shouldn’t _ be here. Holy fuck, was there an actual possibility that post traumatic stress flashbacks could become whole ass hallucinations? Or was that _ just _when they were combined with one too many shots of tequila?

Panic struck its hand through Catra’s chest and grabbed her heart. She blinked once, twice, the uncomfortable seizing of her muscles preparing her for the fallout of losing her mind- for _ real _ this time- and then the Patrón -TSD hallucination of her girlfriend spread her arms out and began swimming towards the deep end, and Catra almost _ drowned _in the competing urge.

Adora was _ really _here, the damp ends of her hair kissing the water, and Catra found herself staring at a sight that had her heart erratic and impulsive, as if the weight of the muscle was going to pull her straight into the water to drown until her girlfriend’s arm were wrapped around her and holding her again. The desire to jump in, to surrender the last crumbs of her pride so she could flail around like an idiot, to risk repeating history was something Catra considered. What? All of her resolve had melted away in the fallout of her drunken tantrum and it’s not like there was any good reason to act like she didn’t miss her girlfriend and that the withdrawal from being apart had coming close to killing her; six hours of indifference towards Adora was the limit, and Catra had teased it like she teased every other limit. No reason to act dignified or uninterested or unlike the total whipped loser she was for her girlfriend... if that’s what Adora still wanted to be. No reason expect the dumb fucking water keeping them apart.

Why, for the love of God, had Catra not just bit the bullet and just gone to the stupid YMCA pool to let Scorpia teach her the first time her roommate offered?

Frustration at this block, relief that someone had actually come for her, anger that it hadn’t happened any fucking sooner, some bastard of an emotion brought another wave of tears to Catra’s eyes and she almost let out another scream. _ No! No more fucking crying, you big baby! _ This was so unfair! Whatever agenda Adora had for coming out here- and Catra would bet her next Uber tip Princess Perfect had one up her sleeve- if Catra was just a mess of snot and frizzy curls then she held no cards and there was no way she could play the game. Adora was probably going to spend the next twenty minutes taking pity on her if Catra couldn’t cut this shit out, and that was _ just _what they needed. For fuck’s sake, this whole little trip to the backyard after hours was probably a pity move.

_Why does she get to have this power over me? _ Catra fought the urge to let out another scream as she swallowed her tears. _ And why the _ fuck _ hasn’t she said anything?_

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Adora was currently occupied scooping her arms forehead while trying to keep her face out of the water only to get a mouthful of pool water every couple of strokes. Catra almost laughed. _ What a dumbass. _The sight of the prized prodigy herself failing to save face and somehow make time eased the soreness in Catra’s chest, but when she spoke the warmth that was starting to melt her didn’t come out. Something beat her to it. The monster had caught her tongue. “What are you doing out here, Adora? Shouldn’t you be waiting hand and foot on the Queen of Bright Moon.”

_Jesus _ fuck _ , Jauregui. _

She knew it was a low blow. But that part of her that could _ taste _the pity radiating off Adora- the part of her refused to be better despite any obvious promise of potential- couldn’t help it. 

For once, Adora didn’t take a sloppy swing at the bait. Catra waited, her eyes trained on Adora’s subtle movements, for a change in her expression, for a retort that never came. _ Oh, so _ now _ she wants to be fucking mature? Guess she finally got her Princess Panties unbunched. _

Yep, mature. _ That’s _ why halfway across the threshold of water, Adora righted herself and began to tread water. The anemic frown on her face was only there for the blink of an eye before a neutral tiredness came back to her expression but Catra had drawn pretty much every expression she was capable of making, and more than knew when she hit a nerve. But Catra also knew when her girlfriend was nothing short of pissed; she couldn’t explain why her comment hadn’t reduced Adora to a foaming-at-the-mouth idiot- an Adora much closer to Catra’s own size and strength, and a lot fucking easier to knock down- and why she was just letting it roll like the water off her back as she swam in completely _ different _ direction.

_Coward, _ vindicated, her broken heart skipped a beat, _ like you would talk to me._

“When you’re done deflecting, Catra, then I’m ready to talk.”

_Is she _ fucking _ serious?!_

A low growl escaped Catra’s throat. She was sitting here, on the brink of nuclear self destruction and her own worst fears, and Adora really thought she could pull that bullshit? And what, be casual as fuck about it as the cherry about it on top? After walking away and turning her back- _ again _ \- without a single drop of hesitation she had become emboldened enough to say _ that _? After coming out here just to dangle pity in front of her face? After,

_“All you ever do is cause me pain!”_

Catra blinked, her eyes shot to hell as they followed Adora’s movements and the calm ripples she sent through the water; a complete 180 from her little explosion earlier echoing over and over until it was etched in the walls of Catra’s brain. 

_Yeah, _ her fingers dug into the grout and the sound of her bracelets scratching tile registered as far away from this shitty place, _ what do you think you caused me?_

Except, Catra couldn’t back that up for shit. She couldn’t, as she sat here watching her about to be ex plug her nose and dip her head under the water like some senior citizen doing water aerobics, dig in the deepest parts of her baggage to muster up the energy to stick the blame on Adora. Again. Adora deserved it! So why- why couldn’t she do it? Because she was what? _ Tired? _ Hungover? Fuck all if it was because Catra was actually changing as person, as if being slammed into brick walls and concrete and grouted pool decks had broken her down over and over and over _ again _ until something better was built, something worthy arose from the ashes! Yeah, cause _ that _ was it. _ That _ was why she couldn’t look in those eyes so blue she could drown for a second time only to choke on the words “ _ I don’t fucking need you _.” 

No, that couldn’t be it. Because Catra was not a good person, right? That was what Adora was gonna say when Catra stopped deflecting. Catra was never gonna change- if that was even possible anymore- and Adora was getting out with her dignity still intact. 

And Catra deserved that, didn’t she? If the last half hour to two she had sat out here rehydrating by osmosis it had become pretty fucking obvious the person who was the cause of all the pain in her life. 

Again.

_“It’s you kitten,”_

Adora’s popped up from the water and she inhaled. Wet hair gold in the soft light of the pool, she shook it like a wet dog, as she closed her eyes. 

_“You drive them away.”_

As Adora’s body began to sink into the blue again, a hidden strength tore Catra’s tongue away from the monster. “Adora!”

Because, _ no, _ Catra was not losing Adora. Not again. Not over something as idiotic as a petty fight over the airheaded opinions of Glimmer and Bow because who gave a fuck what those pseudo-royal fucks thought of her if _ Adora _ wanted to be with her? More important than ruining the sparkle of their lives was that Catra was _ not _ losing Adora when that dumb blonde and her escapist fantasies turned both of their futures into a life worth facing assholes like them for anyway. Hordak would be damned disappointed in her final move, but Catra was folding her cards. And she didn’t give a single fuck and or a single thought to the weakness it was, because Catra was doing the unpredictable. She was _ learning. _She was surrendering in a game that was 100% rigged. 

Cause it wasn’t about winning anymore. It was about Adora. 

“Adora, wait!”

And just like that, the strobing lights in Catra’s brain illuminating her scattered memories of regrets and mistakes went dark, and in the afterglow that was left behind her closed eyes, the voices of all her two-timing ghosts went silent. Just long enough for her to do the right thing.

Finally.

Ocean eyes flew open, sending a wave of relief that flooded Catra’s veins and washed away any residue of any traumatic response long fired in her brain. A small smile began to form on Adora’s face, one she stifled by biting the side of her lip, and Catra’s toes curled. Oh, so that was all it took? God, she was _ so _ bad at not being an open book. But Catra on the other hand… Catra was bad at this next part. “I-” she swallowed, her spit tasting like an Old Fashioned heavy on the salt, because what the hell was she supposed to say? Ten seconds ago she was sure she wasn’t even going to get this far. “-uh,” _ Ugh, what would Scorpia say in this situation? Yeah, like Scorpia would ever do what I did today. _ “I do want to talk? _ Fuck. _” her voice fell into a hoarse squeak as she hung her head in defeat. Okay, she could see now why it was stupid to want to have the upper hand in a mature conversation but did she have to look like a complete idiot?

“Wait, do you want to talk? Or fuck?” giggled Adora and Catra growled, not bothering to look up when a hand grabbed onto hers. Her inclination betrayed her as the sensation of water splashed up her arm. _ What? _Catra looked up without missing a beat, but she didn’t pull away.

Arms hooked over the edge and body lost into the dark blue, Adora had parked herself right there beside Catra. She squeezed Catra’s hand. A silent apology that said _ I’m just teasing, you know. _Hands shaking, Catra interlaced their fingers forcing her gaze up towards the night sky before squeezing back. A single tear traced the length of her cheek in the ultimate act of betrayal and landed on their joined hands.

_Great. _

“So, um, Glimmer’s fine.” Adora started in a quiet whisper that dripped with discomfort. Of course she had to swoop in and bandage Catra’s embarrassment over the dumb tear thing. And that followed; ever since that first night and the first Uber ride, Adora squirmed whenever there was room for silence, twiddled her thumbs and went for it just to ease her own feelings, always jumping in before Catra had time to stew. Up until a few days ago. Catra looked down to find her chewing on her lip like a little furious rabbit to lettuce, the veins in her own pounding as the quiet exhaustion that came after crying began to take over. “A-and she’s not mad at you.”

“Halle-fucking-lluah.” Catra muttered, her sarcasm undercut by her super sexy attempt to wipe her tears away with her fear hand. _ Just because you thought Adora would never actually touch you again isn’t an excuse to cry, got it? _a voice inside reprimanded and she flinched inwardly. Either Adora had some verified Bow method up her sleeve to get through to her, or the last forty five minute eternity had stripped the layers away, but that scared little girl was bleeding through and now Catra’s hands were red.

Blinking in rapid fire, Catra tried to take a breath, keeping her eyes trained away from Adora’s- because God, she just did _ not _ have the energy to break for a second time today- when her gaze caught the white light of the door. She could make out, for the first time, a fuzzy figure through the glass. A _ familiar _fuzzy figure.

“Is that-” hiccup, “is that Scorpia?”

“Yeah,” Adora turned her head and the sound of the water sifting around her movements was almost enough to be grounding, “she’s worried about you. _ Really _ worried, actually.”

“Oh.” Catra swallowed. 

_Scorpia, why? For the last time, you have better things to do then worry about… about me! _Beyond the new numb brought to her by all her crying, there was a flicker of guilt in Catra’s chest. Guess she hadn’t destroyed their friendship in a fit of rage and jealousy after all. Guess they would have to save that for a later date.

“I’m worried about you too, Catra.” Adora whispered, squeezing her hand and Catra’s guard slipped in the presence of her vulnerability. Shattered on impact, basically. ‘Cause in her half sober state Catra forgot she was supposed to be avoiding the look on Adora’s face for a reason and her eyes flickered downwards, only to have that reason punch her in the fucking stomach. 

Curse Adora and the worried glaze in her eyes. Fuck her and the expression she wore, the one Catra pictured when she closed her eyes and thought of the person she wanted to be holding her, reassuring her, _ wanting _ her. Because how was Catra supposed to take that, that Adora was worried about her when it was Adora she watched leave, turn her back on her, _ again _? How many times was Catra supposed to endure abandonment in this painful chase for love? And how the hell was Catra supposed to deal with any of it, any promise of the future when Adora looked so damn beautiful glowing like a fucking angel in the iridescence?

She couldn’t cope. She could barely breathe! Not like this, not in this state somewhere in between fading intoxication and dissociation where she was stuck suspended. There wasn’t any logic here! So Catra did what she always did, what she was a fucking master at: she took the easier option, and turned her eyes away and forced her gaze to find something, _ anything _, anywhere but the eyes that matched the perfect blue of the water and pierced her with the warmth of home.

“Catra?” tried Adora again, because she was just too selfish to sit in the silence. Typical. “Please say something? I want- I _ need _ to know you’re going to be okay.”

Another scoffed burned Catra’s throat, “Because it’s all about you, right?”

“I just,” she faltered, her voice falling and her grip on Catra’s loosening, but as if that punishment wasn’t enough, Catra pushed it further pushing her incisors into her tongue. _ Amazing job, Jaraguei! You messed that up without lifting a fucking finger! That might actually be a new record! _Self deprecation aside, Catra was blowing this. At this rate she wasn’t just going to push Adora away, she was going to send Adora straight through the glass door. “I just don’t like seeing you in pain.”

Mrs. Weaver’s voice rang in Catra’s head at Adora’s response like the world’s most fucked up melody, _ Maybe you should’ve thought of that _ before _ you acted. _

“What do you want me to say, Adora? That I’m fucking fantastic after what just happened? That today was the best day ever? ‘Cause I’m it _ not. _” Catra bit back, anger brought down every word with a whip. Too bad all this anger amounted to was bullshit. Too bad was no one she was angier at than herself. Everytime Catra thought she had hit rock bottom, she just dug deeper and deeper with everything she said like her fury was her own personal shovel.

Too bad that was all she knew how to do. Who was she, Scorpia?

“Then that’s all you had to say, Catra! I’m not- I’m not trying to play games with you.” Adora replied in exasperation. Catra braced, expecting to feel the friction of her pulling away, of her letting her hand go and the same ghost of her touch that had been haunting her all week, but the sensation never came. Adora only held her fingers tighter.

“Oh please,” Catra rolled her eyes against her pounding head, “if you’re not playing games, Princess, then what the hell was all of today?” Fingers still interlaced, Adora tore her eyes away with a grimace on her face. “Ugh, for someone who _ insists _she’s not Mrs. Weaver or Hordak, you sure have the guts to act like them.”

This laceration brought Adora, veins in her neck popping, right back to Catra’s throat. That was the predictable thing about the two of them, the reason Catra pushed in the first place; Adora lacked the willpower not to push her back, and if the only reason Adora stayed around was because she couldn’t resist the fight, then what proof did Catra have that Adora wouldn’t book it the second the fight was over? A thousand emotions flashed in her eyes as a sick type of satisfaction settled over Catra. “Me? I- how can you- Catra, I’m _ trying, _ okay! I just didn’t- I’m bad at this, okay? I don’t know what to _ say _ or- or what _ not _to say! I’m really, really bad at this.” Adora lay her head on the grout, mumbling the last words of defeat straight into her arm. 

_Holy shit. _ Catra blinked. The sight of Adora deprecating the shit out of herself for trying to do the right thing was enough to make Catra’s stomach churn so violently she could picture for a split second a future full of vomiting straight into a pool filter but for the second time, Adora threw Catra off by turning down the bait. Adora stayed for the fight, but she didn’t push back. It wasn’t a bullet she dodged with any grace, but duh, this was _ Adora. _ Adora, just stupid enough to care to the point of detriment about Catra to entertain this monstrous side of her. Adora, who endured a brutal week of the silent treatment and the shit bag that was being ignored in public and watching her friend come close to a brush with actual death. She _ wanted _ to be here. She wanted to see this through to whatever end it would take them to, fiery or explosive or otherwise, or she wouldn’t have said any of that. Adora wouldn’t loosen the reins on something like this unless this was _ real _to her. 

_Yeah, she also came out here after you pissed off all her friends and messed up so bad Scorpia wouldn’t even come to see you, genius. That didn’t clue you in? _

“Hey,” Catra squeezed her hand, “you can’t be any worse at this than me.”

And that was the whole truth. Catra doubted there was anyone in the whole fucking world that was worse at the honest vulnerability it took to maintain a relationship. Except maybe Seahawk, pretentious asshole. That Pirate Man Baby was in a dimension of his fucking own.

Peeking up at Catra over her folded arms, Adora managed to stay guarded even when the smallest of smiles betrayed her, “You’re not _ that _bad.”

“Are you kidding?” Catra snorted- _ God, my fucking snot burns- _ and threw her other hand up into her curls, “I just accused you of being like the two most narcissistic people on the planet and you think _ you’re _doing a bad job?”

“Well I’m definitely not doing very well, that’s for sure.” Adora blew air out through her lips and her shoulders deflated.

Licking the salt off her lips, Catra couldn’t resist the sarcasm, the push “That’s a first.”

“I’m not good at this girlfriend stuff. I want to be,” Adora muttered as she lay her head back in her arm- _ how is she supporting herself? Is she still treading water? Jesus Christ, she’s so fucking strong- _ just dense enough and lost enough in her own problems to absorb any blow Catra could throw, “but every time a moment seems really crucial I either mess it up, or get it wrong because I don’t listen to you or I’m just thinking about myself and I- I _ want _to be a good girlfriend. For you. But what if wanting to be isn’t- never mind, I- I don’t know where I was trying to go with this.”

“Mmm,” Catra kicked her legs back and forth, watching the water move back and forth. Nothing Adora said really came as a surprise; seriously, Catra had known Adora pretty much all of their lives and not a single speech had come as close to being as _ Adora _ of a response as that one. It hit all the boxes: her pathological and debilitating desire to please ( _ thanks for that one, Mrs. Weaver), _her savior complex, the all-or-nothing anxiety that was ruining her life while the all-or-nothing of every fucking emotion humanly possible ruined Catra’s. It wasn’t an apology for the way she acted this week. But it was a start, further than anywhere Catra had gotten, “have you thought maybe you just don’t have the right girlfriend?”

_Well that’s one way to give her an out, you idiot! Look at who you’re talking to, you think she’s gonna take that as anything but bad?_

“Uh, no actually, and I’ve thought about this _ a lot, _from literally every angle, and mmm, no I don’t think that’s it.” Adora hummed, her voice light in the face of the ugly turn Catra had just steered this conversation into.

Catra looked down to find her smiling wide and expectant and amused by the cleverness of her own comeback. _ Okay, so I guess she doesn’t want to break up. _God, Adora was just so fucking beautiful it was borderline unfair. Unfair for her to be there treading water as some sort of gleeful goddess. Unfair for Catra to have someone like her.

“Catra, I know I messed up this week and today,” continued Adora, much quieter than her boldness before, “but I want to-”

“Fix it?” Catra raised an eyebrow.

A jerky tremor flowed through her legs and arms as her girlfriend slipped from the wall one second and drove her knee into the wall out of shock the next, “No!” Adora’s eyes went wide as she splashed around scrambling to pull herself back up to the edge, “I mean yes! I mean, no? I mean- I’m _sorry, _I want to say I’m sorry that’s- that’s what I mean.”

_Are you really going to tease her like that, _a scaley two-faced ghost who’d spent the last half hour calling her out and calling her kitten and darling taunted her, running a phantom finger up the scars on her back.

“I should’ve listened to you when you were practicing your tattoo work and not tried to have guessed what you were _ really _upset about. I’m sorry I listened to Glimmer and Bow this week instead of you and just whenever we’re all together and I prioritize their opinions and feelings instead of you-”

_Huh? How did she know that I was mad about that, what the _ fuck- _ Scorpia. _ Catra’s eyes, clear of those stupid tears- fucking finally- flickered up and landed on the sillohoette still standing in the door. _ Fucking Scorpia. So I guess I wasn’t the only getting called out, was I?_

“-and I’m sorry that I made you come to this party, _ that _ was a stupid idea, about as stupid as letting Glimmer and Bow act like this was more their problem than ours. I’m sorry for making this a public thing and making a scene when I should’ve just kept it between us. And- and you don’t have to forgive me for _ any _ of this and you definitely don’t have to keep going out with me after the way I acted today, but I promise I will try- no, I _ will _work on all of this.” At some point in this novel of an apology, Adora’s other hand had found Catra’s and gripped their intertwined fingers like it was her lifeline. Anxiety was plain as day in Adora’s expression, her movements, the way she stuttered and dropped sentences completely. Watching her try to apologize was like watching a giraffe try ballet for the first time. Catra squeezed Adora’s hand, unsure if the moisture leaking into her palm was her girlfriend’s sweat or pool water, “Anyway, yeah. I’m sorry, for all of it.”

Adora’s ocean eyes met her split ones for a strained painful second. Having played her cards, she pulled her other hand away shaking.

_Oh, and you’re still going to leave here hanging like that? She put herself out there, kitten, and that’s commendable. How rude of you to leave her on the edge like that._

“I’m sorry, too.”

_That’s more like it. What a performance, kitten. Bravo!_

Cutting the air like a knife, Catra’s voice was quiet and foreign as it echoed in her ears. These weren’t words in her everyday vocabulary and just saying them made her mouth itch. Because fuck, it’s not like anyone had ever uttered them to her. Maybe when Scorpia tripped over the rug she and ‘Trapta bought at that dumb garage sale they dragged her to when she could’ve been working and spilled her recently microwaved bowl of baked beans all over Catra’s laundry, then yeah. That was when she got an apology, and maybe that’s why Scorpia got one too when Catra lashed out at her after a twelve hour day of driving with a migraine. 

And Adora… Adora was the only other one who ever said she was sorry and really meant it. So even Catra was practically allergic to the words and their weight on her tongue almost broke it, Adora deserved to hear them. She also deserved to believe them.

Of course those ocean blue eyes were waiting there for Catra to look down again, looking up with just a faint glint of hope. Catra could tell, from hours of staring at her (it’s not like she had anything better to do!) that Adora wasn’t expecting anything more of her. Hell, she probably believed she was still in the red and still the one in the wrong. Adora _ was _wrong, but not about carrying all the blame, and Catra’s need to correct her, to shove her out of that assumption, beat out her need to be a bitch. For once.

“I’m sorry for… for everything_ I _ did. ‘Cause this isn’t just _ your _fault, you know?” Catra forced a smile as she swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Hmm,” Adora nodded.

“You’re not the only one who’s bad at this girlfriend stuff.” she admitted in a hoarse whisper. There were so many other things Catra wanted to say to her, so many other apologies she wanted to make. And now she was here with Adora as her captive audience and found that the words weren’t there. To say sorry for not communicating in the first place, for hurting her arm (multiple times) and not sticking around to make sure she was okay, for ignoring her and lashing out, for pushing Glimmer in the pool, none of it Catra knew how to say. Was it good enough just to say it anyway? All of it was done, all of it _ she _did. Despite knowing she was acting like a total dick, Catra didn’t pull any punches this week.

“Maybe,” began Adora, “maybe we can help each other.”

Catra snorted- again, fucking fantastic- and gave Adora a look, “And that means?”

“I dunno, I mean, we got _ this _ far so obviously we’re not a hopeless case. We have to be doing some _ things _right and the rest, we’ll figure out as we go along. I mean we learned a lot just from this week. Like that I need to work on listening instead of talking and you need to work on talking when you’re upset, and I guess, now that we know that stuff, we give each other permission to tell each other when we’re not doing those things? Like it’s not a personal attack?” 

“I could definitely work losing my shit _ every _ time I get emotional.” _ And not thinking you’re just gonna abandon me or turn into Weaver or Hordak when I fuck up. _ Catra took a deep breath. She could not believe they were having this conversation. Because, _ holy _ shit, had she wanted to be better but she could just never picture it or imagine how fucking uncomfortable it would end up being to talk like this. This, this churning in her stomach and crawling sensation in her skin as she spoke, this is why everyone said opening up about this stuff would be like getting her damn teeth pulled. With _ out _ anesthesia.

“See!” Adora nudged her with their joined hands. “We can figure this out! You work on regulating your emotions and I’ll work on not being such a neurotic mess who’s afraid of messing things up all time. I just- I think I was so afraid of messing things up that I tricked myself into believing that that’s what was holding us together, and so I trusted the fear over _ you _ and then Glimmer and Bow just harped on that- wait, wait, wait, I’m doing it. Oh my God, I’m doing it _ right _now. Oh c’mon Adora, get it together!”

As soon as Adora found the willpower in herself to shut up, Catra realized that she’d been digging her teeth into her bottom lip, a strange feeling walking up her spine. Adora couldn’t help but word-vomit her feelings the second Catra gave her an inch of an opening and yeah, she did just call herself out on doing just that, but Catra couldn’t even get stuck on the hypocrisy of all of it, too lost in the realization that Adora… Adora was scared of messing things up, too.

Catra knew this feeling, the one creeping up her neck and kissing her head, sending shivers that washed away the discomfort that opening the floodgates had brought, but only as strangers that shared a bus route (or in a more Bright Moon accessible metaphor, strangers that had parking spots on the same level in the parking garage, or shared the same bank). This was the emotion that followed whenever Scorpia managed to pry how her day of driving was out of her and agreed that yeah, Bright Mooners are the _ worst _tippers and have no sense of manners. This was the feeling that Catra met when she heard Entrapta muttering from the kitchen to Emily that her newer robot builds weren’t what they used to be as she stared at paper full of sketches and the red pen of Julien’s critiques. 

God fucking damnit, was this validation? Did Catra actually feel _ seen _right now? So lost in her maze of metaphors and car crashes and projections of trauma, Catra fooled herself into thinking she was alone in feeling that she would be the reason she and Adora couldn’t work. And here Adora was, her flexing arms glimmering in the soft light as she stayed holding herself up the wall, admitting in the classic rant style of hers that was nothing if not nervous as fuck, that she was scared too. In the darkness of this fear, Catra hadn’t noticed that Adora was sitting there in it right smack behind her. 

Yeah, it made sense that Adora was scared, if Catra pushed her pounding brain to actually think about it for once. Adora had never had a steady girlfriend and dating wasn’t exactly an activity you could be a prodigy in. Between the bitter belief Catra held onto that Adora was just automatically perfect at every damn thing and that the sparkle of Bright Moon glowing on her covered up the shit she was hiding, Catra lost sight of that fact. Didn’t help that around Glimmer and Bow added their shine to hers and pretty much blinded her in the process. Maybe _ that’s _why she felt so fucking terrible around them.

"Yeah, well I guess while you were thinking you were gonna fuck things up I did- damnit- I mean, I was thinking I was gonna mess this all up, too.” Catra whispered. Squeezing Adora’s hand, she took another deep breath.

“You- you were?” asked Adora.

“Yup.” she nodded, “I know that fear is kinda of your thing, but you don’t have a monopoly on it. I was so sure I was gonna fuck this up that it just manifested itself. I wanted to talk to you about it, but Christ I don’t know how to do this.” Catra dropped her head, expecting Adora to say something comforting or some shit. But she just squeezed her hand again instead. 

“Yeah, yeah,” squeezing back, Catra used her free hand to wipe her tears as she nodded back and forth enough to aggravate the already aggravated pounding, “It’s just, ever since we finished She Ra, Glimmer and Bow have been around a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.” Adora dipped her head down.

“And I don’t know if they mean it or whatever, I know _ you _ probably don’t think they do, but they… they just make me feel insecure and I _ hate _ that.” Catra did her best to keep going, despite the way every molecule in her was screaming at her to shut the hell up. Every word just sounded so much lamer and so much more pathetic than the last. “I hate feeling not good enough, even though I’m pretty fucking used to it, but feeling not good enough for _ you… _ I just- I thought it would be _ different _this time around, or something? I dunno, maybe that’s just me being stupid.” Sure as hell wouldn’t be the first time. And definitely not the last, if this conversation had any say.

Adora, now that she had latched her teeth into giving this whole communicating thing a shot, took her sweet time before responding. But her response wasn’t the usual kind Catra found waiting for her on the other end of a thoughtful pause, “This stuff with Bow and Glimmer, I never meant to let it get to you like this, I just-_ I _was being selfish, ok? I wanted to be with and I wanted things to stay the same with the Best Friends Squa- with Glimmer and Bow, and I get now that that’s not possible. Things are changing and that’s really good, but it means that I do have to change with them, which I’ve never been good at.” Adora snuck the last part in under her breath and Catra snorted.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have not talked to you about it,” she admitted.

“Catra, you never would’ve been able to do that with them always interrupting us.” said Adora with such a frank and honest I’m-not-sugarcoating-this-shit-anymore tone that Catra squeaked she’d started laughing so hard, her nose and throat protesting in a burning pain, “I talked to them about that, by the way. Before I came out here. You don’t have to give them a shot or hang out with them, but I told them that going forward that our relationship is gonna be on _ our _terms, not theirs. If- if you still wanna have one, anyway.”

“You talked to them? Seriously?”

Adora nodded, her gaze burning a whole in the pool wall.

“That’s hot.”

“Really?” she perked up and Catra almost squeaked again. _ Aw, just can’t resist the crumb praise, can we Adora? _ Poor shot at her girlfriend aside, there was still a part of Catra that was shocked stupid by this. Adora went to her roommates- who even in their “Gosh I Love Arrows” crop tops and pink Princess Leia styled hair could be intimidating in a passive-aggressive advantaged kinda way- and put her foot down _ for _ Catra. Growing up in that nightmare house on the lonely street in the world, all Catra had wanted was for her best friend to risk her grace with Mrs. Weaver and tell her to shove it where the sun didn’t shine. Course she never ever did and Catra could only see it just now what she was so scared of, that Adora was too scared to risk her _ safety _and not her reputation with that old bitter crone to stand up for her in a way that mattered. Took thirteen years and yeah the situation was a complete 180 turn from when they were kids, but today Adora actually stood up for Catra in a way that mattered, a way that changed things. 

_Fuck, if only I’d been there to see the look on Sparkles’ face._

“Well yeah,” mused Catra as she kicked her feet back and forth, “you’re obviously _ not _as bad at this girlfriend thing as you think you are if you can create boundaries with Sparkles and Rainbow.” 

Teasing her lip with her teeth, Adora shrugged, “Maybe I just had a good reason to do it.”

_And maybe you’re a lot fucking better at this girlfriend thing than I give you credit for, _Catra swallowed, a familiar warmth crawling it’s way up her chest (and an embarrassing amount of other places) and anchoring in her heart as she stared at her girlfriend and forgot to blink.

“I mean, Scorpia _ was _ threatening me-” 

“Oh my God-”

“-like I thought she was gonna kill me if I didn’t go any faster-”

“Okay, _ okay, _I get it, Adora.” Catra shut her down as Adora giggled, dodging the water Catra kicked up at her. “Scorpia can be one hell of a motivator.” 

“Yeah,” agreed Adora with the smallest nod of her head, “but that’s not the only reason I did it.”

“Hmm,”

This time when silence overtook them, Catra was not met with the same angry discomfort as before. There wasn’t an ounce of the bitterness in her before and this time around she didn’t have brace her whole entire body for whatever stupid shit Adora was about to say when that big mouth of hers opened without thinking. Everything was quiet, but not in a way that made her feel like this was the end of the goddamn world. Not in a way where Catra _ knew _ something bad was waiting for her on the other side.

Because for the first time in this entire shit storm of a day, something not fucking terrible was promised. This volcanic rift that she and Adora had let fracture all the progress they had made, all the good they had with each other, looked just a little bit smaller from this side of the pool. Bow and Glimmer, Scorpia and Entrapta, fucking Marshmallow and the rest of the Bright Moon gang had really tried it- whether or not they were doing it on purpose, Catra would give them that, and what they really ended up doing was proving a fact Catra kept letting herself forget: Adora and Catra were forged survivors. No one was doing it like them in this city (not that any of the privileged ass hats had too) and no one had what they had- this foundation of mutual understanding and quiet trust in each other that kept them coming _ back _ to each other- because of it. Mermista’s stupid party and it’s fake sparkle and shine had exposed the two of them as pretty fucking bad at _ living _ , but you didn’t get through a brawl out like this one by drinking speciality margaritas and lounging carefree by the pool. That shit was _ all _survival.

Catra swallowed, her hand still locked in Adora’s. _ It’s so fucking weird she isn’t talking. Is she- is she waiting for me to talk? Or maybe I’m dreaming and dream Adora is calm and centered and patient with me. Or maybe I’m just dead. _

Dread filled her at this theory, a theory backed by the persistent belief that no matter what Adora said or did that Catra wasn’t ever gonna be worthy of this version of her, Catra squeezed her palm.

Adora squeezed back.

Relief sunk in Catra’s body like her shoulders fell to her chest. God, she was fucking exhausted. And she still felt so fucking small! Like, despite talking to Adora and trying her hand at actual human communication, Catra was still that weak and no good little girl. That bad kitten alway in danger of being drowned. Being a survivor, what a fucking epiphany right? The deeper epiphany, the one that made her scared and small, was that now that she had Adora, she had no fucking clue what she was supposed to do if life left Catra without her again. This week in hell had been her trial run in living and being without Adora, and Catra had failed it.

_Adora makes you want to be a better person, _ somewhere in her head, a voice strangely maternal wrapped its arms around her and Catra could almost collapse into the sound, _ and that’s not a bad thing, mija. You’re better around her, so you want to be around her. But it does not mean you are a terrible person on your own._

_Nope, just broken. _Catra replied, And either she was fucking insane for engaging with a ghost of a memory like this or almost to the worst hungover of her entire life. _How the hell are we supposed to get back to normal? Or- whatever’s normal after a crazy batshit fight like this one?_

_You just jump in, mija._

Catra squeezed Adora’s hand. Adora squeezed back.

“So,” Catra whispered, her voice hoarse, “can I, like ask you something?”

“Uh, yeah?” Adora, her lips pursed in confusion, turned her head.

“How...how did you learn to swim?”

Catra watched as Adora visibly relaxed, “Oh! Oh, how did I learn to swim- okay, yeah that makes sense. Uh, if I can answer a question with a question, why do you wanna know?”

“Well, it’s not like _ she _ever taught us.” responded Catra.

“No, no she didn’t.” Adora bit her lip and fell quiet for a solid minute. _ Oh crap, was that the most wrong thing to ask? Damn it! You have to stop her. _Then, right as Catra was about to hit the destruct button of this conversation, her girlfriend took a deep breath before starting again, “Mara did. Mara taught me a lot of things.” 

“Adora, you _ don’t _have to talk about this if you don’t want to.” Catra told her, putting a death grip on her hands, but Adora shook her head and waved her off.

“No it’s fine! It’s _ fine _ , I promise. It’s just… it’s hard to think about how she spent so long trying to find me and all she found was this useless, scared little kid.” _ Ouch? _ “But yeah, we were spending this summer at this ranch near Dallas when I was thirteen, maybe? And there was a huge lake on the property and so Mara decided I was gonna learn. She was tired of me being scared of the water, or I guess she didn’t want me to be. Mara made me do ice cream scoops and use a kickboard all _ without _ a life jacket which we fought about _ all _the time, and then by the end of the summer I knew all of the strokes and could beat her in a race.”

“Wow, okay.”

“It was only ‘cause Mara was sick already and I just didn’t know it. She was really good at hiding it. _ Really _good.” sighed Adora, curling her fingers in a fist she brought up to her face.

_Good fucking damn it! _ Just like that, Catra was sent spiraling back to the urge scream. The discomfort of earlier she thought she’d scrubbed out of her system came back with enough force to knock her out, which yeah, wasn’t that hard given her physical state, but Jesus _ Fuck _ ! This is what she got for snooping around in baggage that didn’t belong to her! Carta wasn’t prepared- emotionally _ or _ physiologically- to talk about Adora’s adoptive mom or the fact she died an excruciating death _ in front of _Adora and then walk through the fallout of bringing that up. 

If today taught her anything, it was that she sure as hell was not mature enough for a conversation.

_Yeah, but this is my fault, god I’m an idiot! I can’t just _ abandon _ her here- is she biting her freaking nails?!_

“Hey, um,” stuttered Catra as just about choked on her own spit, “I didn’t mean to-”

“Catra it’s _ fine, _I told you it was okay. Honestly, I should talk about this stuff more but…” Adora, finger nails lingering on her lip, trailed off.

Catra squeezed her hand, pulling it away from the wall and pulling Adora back to her, “But it _ fucking _sucks to talk about?”

“Heh, yeah, you- you get me,” Adora laughed. In a quick, obviously practiced movement, Adora tore her hand away from her mouth and swept the base of her palm under her eyes. 

“Yeah,”

_Well that was a fucking disaster. At this rate, Adora’s gonna have this girlfriend stuff mastered and I’m gonna end up in last place. Ugh, no that’s stupid! This isn’t a competition, Jauregui, you moron-_

“Did you ask me how I learned how to swim because you wanna learn?”

“Huh?”

Catra blinked. Sorry, _ what _ did Adora just ask her?

When she glanced at her girlfriend for an answer- or to see if this was another one of Adora’s bad attempts at a joke that was _ supposed _to be harmless yet always ended up being just that- Catra found Adora looking up at her with those ocean eyes and not a hint of irony anywhere in them. Yeah, because even though their lives were one big middle finger to simplicity, Adora just wasn’t capable of irony. Just always the victim of it.

Pulling her hand away shaking, Catra pushed “Wait, you’re not being serious, are you? _ Are _you, Adora?”

“Well, I mean I’m not going to push you to do anything you don’t want to do- ‘cause I definitely learned my listen last time,” Adora bit into her lip and glanced down at her bandaged arm before looking back up and Catra’s entire chest convulsed almost violently, “-but if you _ wanted _ to? Then yeah, I’m- I’m being serious.”

About a million and one objections raced to Catra’s brain to this batshit crazy idea of Adora’s. Most of ‘em rang with a faraway sensation of scalding heat and the scent of burning skin trapped deep in her subconscious; other reluctant thoughts were more tangible in the sense that her brain had smashed the panic button like she’d taken to it with a closed fist. Nuh-huh, no freaking way, not in a million fucking years was Catra about to take Adora up on her offer. Ugh, why did it always come back to the water? Whether it was losing all the nerves on her back or babysitting Charlie or making sure Glimmer hated her permanently, here Catra was again. 

What was Adora even _ thinking _? That a lifetime of buying into Mrs. Weaver’s rather vivid threats could be overturned just like that? Just by taking Adora’s hand and holding onto her waist in Mermista’s infinity pool, that just like that, Catra would be fixed?

_Ha! Yeah, it _ doesn’t _ work that way. Does it?_

It wasn’t like Adora had yanked her into the deep end without warning, laughing all jubilous as she betrayed every ounce of Catra’s trust for the final time. No, Adora actually told her this was something Catra could turn down and it didn’t seem like the neurotic ex-temp turned YA novel writer was gonna give her crap about chickening out of something that terrified Catra so much it kept her up at night. _ And _ there weren’t any of those Bright Moon shitheads staring wide at them, or Glimmer here to make snide comments under her breath and sharing looks with Bow (it was like, get a room, disgusting brats); with no gaping audience, it would just be the two of them, _ alone, _like Catra had craved all week and that thought almost sucked her in full force to this dumb idea of Adora’s like it had its own gravity. 

This wasn’t Catra jumping in blind and barely sober in just another suicidal stunt meant to punish herself and shock everyone around her into worrying about her. This wasn’t Catra jumping in after some toddler that was out to destroy her and this wasn’t wandering in alone just to see what all the fucking fuss was about. If anything went wrong, Adora would be there to step. If Catra was safest with _ anyone, _it was with Adora.

_Hold the _ fuck _ up, Jauregui. Are you actually thinking about going through with this? _ Catra’s eyes dropped down to her legs dangling in the pool and her skin long turned pruny. Huh, yeah, holy _ fuck _ she was thinking about going through with this. She’d made it to the edge- a feat she was sure she’d never accomplish sober _ or _ drunk- and came face to face with _ that _ much of her fear of water, so was there really anything left sense wise to stop her? In sitting here Catra hadn’t died despite her surety she’d fade away on the spot. Taking the final plunge was just one more “ _ fuck you _” she could give to that lingering memory of Hordak and Weaver. 

Penance, it was also penance for making Adora open up about Mara. Catra… Catra kinda owed this to Adora, to face this fear, after_ everything _she had put her through. 

“Okay, fine.” Catra caved and Adora’s jaw dropped, surprise taking her so hard she slipped from the wall again. “But there _ have _ to be rules, Princess. I’m not walking into this letting you think you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Rules! Yeah, rules, I can do rules!” Adora clambered on as she threw her upper body weight onto the ledge. 

“If we’re gonna do this, then I’m only doing it in the shallow end. I’m _ not _ putting my head under the water and I get to call it off when _ ever _ I want,” Catra enunciated every word so it got through Adora’s thick, beautiful head. She could already feel her limbs begin to shake at the thought of getting into the water and her heart jumped up into her throat. Catra needed Adora to be focused right now ‘cause she was _ not _dying in some lawyer’s backyard because her girlfriend was too busy dorking out. “Ugh, you’re not gonna use this as an excuse to be my knight in shining armor?”

Adora thrust her stomach over the edge- _ fuck her and her stupid sexy swimsuit- _and steadied herself on her arms. “Only if you’re bad at it.”

“Let’s just get this over with.” Catra rolled her eyes, a pretty lame attempt at hiding her amusement. “Shallow end, now.”

“Title of your sex tape-”

“Adora!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” Adora threw her head back, but Catra didn’t miss that smile on her face for one second, as she pulled the rest of her body out from the pool before extending a hand to Catra.

_Oh _ fuck _ I have to stand now. But hey, if I pass out that means I get the hell out of this. _Digging her bracelets and broken nails into the ledge with one hand, Catra took a shaky breath and grabbed Adora’s. Fucking She Ra herself pulled Catra from ground in one swift motion that almost sent her stumbling straight into Adora’s chest and for a second, a hazy part of Catra was jealous of Glimmer when she drowning. The other part of her was screaming at her that that was the most fucked up thing she’d ever heard as a half dissociating Catra followed Adora to the other end of the swimming pool. 

Catra blinked, and then she was standing at the steps of the shallow end. The water lapped and drifted without any influence, splashing upwards when Adora walked in. _I am seriously having second thoughts right now. _Even in the face of her girlfriend’s rare confidence, Catra’s stomach churned as she stared into depth, or, well, lack of it.

“Hey,” Adora’s voice was both right next to her and faraway as hell, “you okay? Again, we _ don’t _have to do this.”

“Uh, no.” _ What do we do to bad kittens, Catra- SHUT UP, YOU BITCH! _“I’m fine, what are you talking about?” Slinking off Scorpia’s haiwaiian shirt- which after sweating in it all day and getting snot and tequila all over Scorpia was probably gonna let her keep- Catra tossed it onto the ground, leaving her unbuttoned “slut shorts” as Marshmallow had called the earlier on and took her first step into the water and towards Adora’s outstretched hand.

A deep red had spread across her girlfriend’s cheeks and for a second, Catra let her mind forget the crazy stunt she was about to try. _ Fuck, I’ve missed that. _“J-just focus on me, okay?” stuttered Adora. 

“Uh, okay.” rolling her eyes, Catra prayed in silence to any god or deity or asshole being that was out there that Adora couldn’t just how fucking terrified she was, how out of her element she looked walking straight up into another. Adora was down the steps and watching her with an almost serene look on her face, waiting there like she was actually capable of sustained patience and somehow refraining from egging Catra on like she was probably dying to. At this rate, Adora would be waiting until they were both dead. All Catra had to do was step into the water. _ Which you were doing like forty five seconds, this isn’t that hard! _ All Catra had to do was walk to Adora. 

_Ugh, just _ do _ it, you pussy!_

“Catra?”

“I’m _ coming _ ! Jesus fucking Christ,” Catra threw her hand onto the metal rod that descended with the stairs and, like a colossal idiot with a massive death wish, stepped into the pool and walked in until she was wading, her legs shaking and her feet hitting the smooth stone of the bottom. She threw her gaze up to the sky. Yeah, it was only like three feet but like three feet of straight up death. _ What the hell is _ wrong _ with me? _ ‘Cause this was so much more than letting her feet dangle helpless in the deep; this was shit idea and she was going to die and now her shorts were all soggy and why the fuck had Adora walked so far out? 

A shiver seized her entire body as water came up to her belly button, “It’s fucking freezing!” Catra half hissed, half squealed as planted her feet on the ground and stared Adora down with the look that she hoped read, _ get the fuck over here babe before I freeze or drown or both. _

Pushing herself forward with one foot, Adora came forward and grabbed Catra’s hands. “You have to move, Catra.” She ran her wet hands up and down Catra’s arms and Catra made a face. Would’ve been a sweet gesture if Adora wasn’t getting the pool water everyone had been marinating in all day all over her arms. “That’s how you warm up.”

_No, I warm up by moving toward you and stealing all _ your _ body heat. Sucker. _ Catra tucked her head down as she took a step forward and cradled herself in the negative space of Adora’s form like some parasitic baby (or Charlie.) Being in the literal matter of torture itself wasn’t so bad drowning in Adora’s scent- familiar vanilla barely covered up by sunscreen despite Bow’s efforts to make her reapply several times throughout the party- and Catra took a deep, steadying breath. She’d never been the type to use, but she could imagine the feeling of coming back to a high after a withdrawal was a few notches down from _ this _ feeling. 

“You better know what you’re doing, Princess. I already made one person drown today, I don’t wanna be next.” Catra kept her eyes on the water as she latched her hands around Adora’s neck and wove her fingers together. Adora’s hands found her waist. 

“Yeah, I’d rather not rescue a second person today.” Adora laughed into Catra’s neck. 

Catra didn’t know when they began to sway back and forth, too busy lost in the relief that she hadn’t fucked up so bad that there was no finding a way back into Adora’s arms, but she knew that what they were doing _ wasn’t _swimming. It was more like dancing. Dancing to a quiet soundtrack of a buzzing pool filter and sloshing salt water. And Adora was right- surprise, surprise- Catra was warming up, slowly but surely, here in her arms. 

“I’m sorry that I made you do that,” Catra whispered into the crevice after an eternity passed. Guilt dripped into her voice; no, her intention wasn’t to shatter the moment or bring back up the sucky events of the day, but Catra wasn’t about to let Adora treat this as humorous just let her off the hook.

“Huh?” Adora pulled away until they were face to face, ocean eyes meeting split ones “What are you talking about Catra?”

“I’m talking about that part where I made you rescue someone ‘cause I was a jealous bitch. I’m sorry I was a jealous bitch.” answered Catra. Fuck, she did not know what had come over her. She thought that this kind of apology was way beyond her maturity after everything she did today. Guess it wasn’t when Catra was standing in the fucking pool and in Adora’s arms ‘cause both those things proved literally about anything was possible.

“Catra-”

“I ruined your day,” Catra squeaked, “and I- I hurt you all because I didn’t know how to talk to you?”

“Catra-” 

“What kind person does that to another human being? And then- then tries to _ justify _it? Seriously, how fucked up do I have to be to-”

“Catra-” 

Catra blinked. In that split second, Adora’s lips collided with hers as Adora’s hands flew to her face, shutting them both up successfully. A sudden warmth spread through Catra’s body, chasing away any remaining cold that came from standing three feet deep in the pool, her tongue tasting lingering salt. _ I didn’t think- I didn’t know if she’d ever kiss me like that, over ever, again. _

Foreheads bumping, it was over just like that and Adora was pulling away taking a deep breath, her gaze falling to the surface of the water. Catra was trying to remember what her fucking name was. “Do you know what the _ hardest _ part about this week was?”

_Is it Catherine? Fuck no, that’s not it… maybe Kitty? _“Uh, no?” she squeaked for the second time.

“It was being away from _ you. _” Adora continued, bringing their foreheads back together and Catra gulped, “I got so used to talking to you all day and- and texting you and facetiming with you before I went to sleep and then, all of a sudden, we just weren’t talking anymore. And I didn’t know what to do but I felt really lost and confused without you to talk to and just wanted it all to be over. I think, deep down, I would’ve done anything to get you to talk to me, and that’s why I yelled at you by the bar. So I can understand why you lashed out and did all those things today… ‘cause I would’ve done them, too.”

Swallowing every emotion threatening to burst out of her, Catra found herself staring deep into Adora’s ocean eyes only to find truth. _ How am I supposed to respond to that?! _ Damn Adora for always having a way with words even when she was full on panicking. All Catra had at her expense was the iconic duo of sarcasm and self deprecation and they barely worked as _ crutches _. She let out a low laugh, “And here I was thinking this was the perfect opportunity to give you an out from having to be with me.”

“I don’t want an out, Catra. That’s like, the _ opposite _ of what I want?” Adora threw her hand over her mouth trying not to laugh, shaking her head with so much force she ended up spraying Catra with pool water.

“I’m being serious!” Catra whacked her arm, shoving the boiling feeling in her stomach down.

“And so am I!” Adora hit back without missing a beat, “ I’m not _ stupid _ , Catra. I wouldn’t be with you if the good didn’t outweigh the bad, and all the good with you outweighs the bad by _ so _ much, I just wish that you and everyone else could see that. I _ trust _ how I feel about you and how you make me feel. This week was the bad, the really _ really _ bad, but every other week Catra? Even just one day of one of those weeks makes this whole shitty week worth it. And I’m not just saying that. I _ mean _ it.”

_Fuck it._

Catra pulled Adora to her and kissed her again, breathing her in and tangling her fingers into her damp hair, because kissing her was easier than thinking, easier than breathing, easier than trying to match that reply. This silence was one Catra wanted to revel in. _ I trust how I feel about you and how you make me feel. _ Those were the words she wanted to hear echoing in her head for the rest of god damn eternity as her lips moved against Adora’s. _ I trust how I feel about, _ Catra smiled into the kiss, _ and how you make me feel. _

But of course Adora wasn’t done making her pitch for girlfriend of the year. As Catra pulled away- reluctant as hell but still in need to breathe- Adora licked her lips and whispered, “I’d go through every bad day just for one good day with you.”

_Fuck. Me._

“Yeah cause you’re an idiot,” easier than thinking, easier than breathing. Catra pulled her in again and kissed her, hard, one last time before, “You’re also a really good girlfriend.”

“Really?” Adora’s eyes shone as she stifled a smile and Catra scoffed. Even in the midst of the breakthrough they were having, Adora couldn’t help but seek the comfort of the reassurance and of praise, just like a child to their precious baby blanket. God, Catra could always count on Adora to be predictable, to be that open book for her, and it’s not like she could say no to _ that _ face. Sue Catra for _ also _being predictable.

Running her fingers down Adora’s cheek, Catra nodded. Her voice was hoarse as she whispered, “Yeah, duh.”

“Well,” Adora spoke softly, “I guess it takes one to know one.” 

_Well played, Princess. Guess we’ve come circle then. _ Catra smiled, choosing not to let the comment slip from her mouth, too satisfied with being there with her. Adora had earned the last word; she had definitely fought like hell for it, for the two of them to be standing here and healing in each other’s arms. So why not reward her by just letting her have it? Why not indulge in the surrender, count her losses here, and just be okay with resting forehead on her girlfriend’s ‘cause that was a fucking _ win. _

Course Catra’s head still had to be pounding like her nerves were at a goddamn rave and her muscles ached with the exhaustion tomorrow would bring. Good thing the pain was just that much less seductive in Adora’s arms.

“Let’s not do this week again,” sighed Adora, the ghost of a smile on her face when Catra opened her eyes.

“Yeah, fuck that.” Catra agreed and her girlfriend giggled, “I’m definitely down for that if you’re down.”

Toes brushing together at the bottom of the pool, Adora pulled Catra’s waist closer until the button of her shorts was touching synthetic fabric, “Arguing can be fun and all,” Catra smirked at her as she kept going, “but I do _ not _like fighting with you.”

“‘S definitely no walk in the park. But what if it happens again? What if we get all in our heads again and- and stop talking like we did this week?” Catra’s grip on Adora’s neck tightened, a shock coming up her spine. _ Wait, what? _ The water was far past the rim of shorts, now kissing the bottom of her rib cage and it hit her then that the two of them- consciously or not- had waded all the way out into the pool another half foot. _ Well fuck. _

“Uh, I dunno.” Adora replied, “I guess, we just keep trying to, you know, communicate?”

There was an unspoken _ you know I’d give anything to make sure that doesn’t happen _ in Adora’s tone, the hidden traces of her control issues and the fear that escaped said control issues, and Catra found herself sighing as their foreheads touched again. Adora’s control issues would be the last thing that saved them, and Catra’s myriad of problems- all demonstrated _ beautifully _ today- sure as hell wouldn’t be doing them any favors going forward. For every effort Adora put into their relationship, Catra was going to have to match if they were going to make it. And if she didn’t want to end up a metaphorical body on the road next to a metaphorically burning car, then she’d better start picking up her half, swallowing her pride, and picking Adora every time it came down to her…or a lifetime of pushing people away.

In light of this hellish prospect, Catra found herself choosing Adora, at least this time. That was one of probably a billion. “Hey, that’s actually _ not _ your worst idea, babe. But saying it outloud, it occurs to me that if we don’t wanna fight, I’m gonna actually have to start communicating, Jesus.”

“Hopefully, it’ll be worth it?”

“Oh no, it will be. I don’t doubt _ that _ part,” teased Catra, running a finger up the back of Adora’s neck, “I’m just scared…” Ocean eyes widened. _ Well that goes without saying, dumbass. You gonna tell her what you’re scared of? _Casting her eyes aside, Catra continued, “I’m scared that, I dunno, it’s gonna take too long for me to get my shit together and you’ll wise up? Is that stupid?”

_Cause it definitely _ sounds _ stupid when I say it out loud. God damnit!_

“Well, I have stuff to work through, too, I mean- not to make it all about _ me _ , it’s just- you wouldn’t be the only one working on being better and I think I just wanna be with _ you, _at this point. I don’t know if that makes you feel any better.” Adora rambled through the last part.

“Hmm. Maybe it does.” Yeah, yeah it did. But Catra would be damned if she had to give up that part when she was practically bare bones here.

“Just in case you forgot all the stuff that happened at the hospital, I’m not going anywhere Catra.” Adora’s grip on her waist tightened. “And besides, we obviously have to get through this so we can come to this party next year and give Sea Hawk and Mermista a run for their money.”

Catra burst into laughter at this unexpected turn, throwing her head back. “_ How _ did we let _ them _ show us up today? I mean, _ c’mon, _ Sea Hawk basically shit himself to death eating glitter for her and they _ still _fought over One Direction- of all stupid things!- all fucking day long! And somehow, we did worse than they did!”

“He- he did what?” Adora tried to ask through her own laughter as she leaned into Catra’s shoulder.

“Glitter, he ate a shit ton of _ glitter, _Adora, and then he bragged about it to Scorpia and Marshmallow for forty five fucking minutes!” 

“Why?! I mean, that’s _ totally _ Sea Hawk and this is definitely _ not _the last time he’s gonna do something like that. Was it like, to impress Mermista?”

“I think he was making some kinda speciality drink for her that I dunno, had glitter in it? And it was blue and sparkly and stuff so he had been trying to see how much glitter was digestible? I was fucking wasted but it still didn’t make any sense.” Catra shrugged off the explanation.

“Oh,” hummed Adora, “well, I guess that _ is _kinda sweet and thoughtful. Kind of. Definitely not the shitting himself to death. But the rest is nice?”

“Yeah. I guess.” Catra conceded with a roll of her eyes. If you asked her, this whole lot was so fucking backwards; Sea Hawk and Mermista were a garbage couple at best, and yeah, Catra didn’t actually know anything about them beyond the useless shit they said about engineering and law ‘cause she’d rather eat glitter herself than not drown them out, but those two them somehow managed to communicate and be functioning mature adults- at least to the point where they could have healthy relationship. Adora had said Sea Hawk and Mermista fought all the freaking time and that while at first it was semi-cute, now ten years in it was just plain annoying so no one else ever got involved in their business. ‘Cause it was always yesterday’s news.

_Maybe Adora and I just have to get there, _ Catra’s eyes fell to the surface of the pool and she chewed on her lip. _ Maybe we have to just be a couple and fight like couples do and keep coming back every time so that no one sticks their noses in and then eventually, we fight less because people stop sticking their noses in?_

Christ, that sounded like they were gonna have to have a shit ton of fights, Catra realized as her heart sunk to the bottom of her lungs. Why did everything good have to come packaged in something bad? Fighting with Adora fucking sucked, why was it necessary- why were days like today needed- for them to learn how to communicate and be a couple? Why couldn’t they just skip to the good part for _ once _ in Catra’s life?

_What was that thing Adora said? “I’d go_ _through every bad day just for one good day with you.” _

Realization sunk into Catra’s skin as she reveled in the warmth on her back of Adora’s hands. Adora said she would go through hell and back just for one good moment with Catra, but the truth was just the same in Catra’s case. And yeah, Catra had already had enough bad days for like nine goddamn lifetimes, but she’d live another nine just end up right here in her girlfriend’s embrace. Course Catra was never one to say shit like that with any eloquence, so she would have to find a way to show Adora that she felt that way. 

And right now, as they swayed back and forth without speaking a single word, it felt like Catra would be willing to spend the rest of her days proving that to Adora, to show her true feelings, to fight for just one more good day with her.

“But we still have to beat them next year,” Adora whispered out of the blue, breaking Catra’s train of thought in half and sending her into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh without a fucking doubt.” she agreed, nodding against her forehead.

Neither of them spoke, for what seemed like another eternity and that made this little expenditure the longest Catra had ever spent in a body of water (baths included, ‘cause why the hell would she subject herself to being trapped in a tiny porcelain torture chamber when she got just stand and dissociate in the steam?). It also made this the one and only time Catra had survived the fallout of a fight with someone she cared about; she’d broken her M.O. tonight of running away- thanks in part to the physical barrier of Mermista’s ugly ass mansion- and of pushing others away. Strange, this feeling was strange and foreign and so fucking uncomfortable, but Catra could grit her teeth and push past it for another feeling: the feeling of being here with her super dorky- and super caring- girlfriend. ‘Cause Adora wasn’t just worth all this pain. Somehow, she had _ made _this pain worth it.

There was one hell of hangover waiting for Catra tomorrow, complete with vomiting in whatever baking bowl Scorpia snuck by her bed and hiding her pounding head under her pillow trying to block out whatever scientific musings Entrapta “whispered” under her breath as she crouched by Catra’s bed, but that was about all Catra knew was in the future. Fingers crossed that Adora wouldn’t go home just to be persuaded again by her My Little Pony roommates. Fingers crossed that she would call tomorrow or maybe, maybe she would even come by and they could really kiss this bad week and silent spell goodbye with their middle fingers up. ‘Cause at least if things couldn’t go back together, then maybe they could actually be better than they were before.

All Catra really had now was this moment of standing there stroking Adora’s neck and nudging her forehead as her girlfriend’s fingers gripped her tighter like they never wanted to let go; all her shitty life had taught her that nothing good was ever permanent. She was going to lose this anyway, so why not enjoy the crap out of it? Catra’s eyelids fluttered open, and she found that even knee deep (or actually, waist deep) in this romantic moment, she couldn’t resist the urge to tease Adora, “You do this with Mara?” she asked in a low voice, bumping her hip.

“Pfft, no.” Adora rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh, but Catra caught the small smile on her face just the same.

_Well at least I know I can still make her laugh._

Taking a step back from their embrace, Adora’s smile widened in a way that was almost too sneaky for comfort. _ Oh no, what does she have planned now? _Catra inwardly groaned despite not being able to muster up the emotion to be annoyed with her girlfriend right now. Either she was just too tired, or more realistaclly too fucking whipped. Matching the low grovel Catra’s own voice, Adora narrowed her eyes and asked, “You wanna learn some more stuff? It won’t break any of your rules. I promise.”

_Does it involve taking our clothes off- WHY would it involve that, Jauregui? _

Catra smirked, covering her arms over her bikini. God this shit was so fucking wild. Her response, more so, given that she didn’t even hesitate for the blink of an eye. “Ugh, why not? Done a lotta things today that I thought I wouldn’t do-” _ be the reason another human being almost drowned, got in the pool where the person almost drowned again… actually successfully communicated instead of running away like a coward, _“so do your worst, Princess.”

“Okay, babe.” Adora stopped right before the five foot marker and the wall and reached out her hand, “You’re probably… yeah, you’re probably gonna get wet.”

“Title of your sex tape,” It was almost _ too _easy with her. 

Adora’s nose wrinkled as she shook her damp hair and laughed, “Okay yeah, I walked into that one. You ready?”

“Um,” Catra swallowed. Okay, now that she was about to do it- it’s not like it was the fucking deep end, so she could do with out the rapid and embarrassing heart beat!- her bravery faltered.

“Catra, do you trust me?” asked Adora. Risking a look up, split eyes caught ocean ones that sparkled in the soft light emitted by the pool, and a strange sense of confidence washed over Catra. She remembered why she was doing this in the first place, wading into uncharted territory because she _ owed _Adora this. Because Adora would be there to watch in case something went wrong. Because Catra was trying to show Adora just what she would do, what she’d live through, for the one promised good day.

“Weirdly enough,” Catra took Adora’s outstretched hand, “I actually do.” 

_

“So then we were thinking after we did the movie marathon we could have a frozen yogurt competition!”

“Uh huh, and what the hell is that supposed to be?”

“Oh the frozen yogurt extravaganza? It’s where we break into teams and then each team has to hit all the frozen yogurt shops in Bright Moon and each eat a whole bowl of frozen yogurt before going to the next one and eating a bowl of frozen yogurt there and then going to the next place-”

“Yeah, yeah I get it. The first team to hit up every place wins, or whatever.”

“See Glimmer, she gets it!” 

“This is gonna be a fucking riot. You two are going down,” abandoning her place where she had been leaning on Angella’s car, Catra leaned forward with her arms crossed to stare Glimmer down. Glimmer, her nose wrinkled, planted her hands on her hips and returned the look.

_ I can’t tell if we made progress today or if we’re right back to where we started, _Adora ran her hands up and down her biceps as she sat in the driver’s seat, the door wide open to the night air and voices of her friends. The persistent Bright Moon humidity wasn’t doing anything to slow down the chills that had seized her entire body back there in the five feet of water, but it hadn’t been the water that had plummeted her body temperature into the freezing range. Swallowing, Adora forced herself to keep her eyes steady on Glimmer and Bow. Every time she stole a glance at her girlfriend (thank God she could stop referring to Catra as she potential ex; stopping that mental habit was going to add five years back to Adora’s life) she expected to then look down at her hands and find them covered in icicles, as if she had somehow in the depths of her latest epiphany gained Book Frosta’s ice powers.

“You can say goodbye to that win, Princess. Me and Adora are gonna eat you alive.” taunted Catra, her voice lit a fire in Adora’s stomach that threatened to melt Adora’s all consuming frost. But whenever Catra talked, all Adora heard was her own voice echoing in her own head, those three little words that were slowly freezing her to death. Adora was trying in vain desperation not to listen; to Catra and her torturous mind.

“Actually,” Glimmer perked up despite her mild concussion, “you’re gonna be on my team.”

“...What?”

“Kidding! That’s for pushing me in the pool today!”

Adora’s shaking hand fell to bruises on her arm. Long had the pain faded, but she still kept coming back there even after Sea Hawk had pulled a typical Sea Hawk move, whipped open the patio door to reveal Scorpia and Entratpa sitting there chewing on the straws of empty smoothies (Adora learned later that while they were watching/roasting _ The Little Mermaid _the party’s bartender made everyone late night drinks made from organic fruit and imported fjord ice) to announce that the party had reached its conclusion and that everyone was going home and that Sea Hawk had some recorded episodes of Property Brothers he’d like to watch, all by his lonesome because no else ever seemed to enjoy his commentary. Adora had helped Catra hop out the pool, hoping her physiological change wasn’t obvious to her extremely perceptive girlfriend, only for her to be rushed by her roommates.

“_ Oh Wildcat, we were so worried!” _Scorpia cried out in anguish as she wrapped Catra, still dripping from the pool water, in her arms. Entrapta buzzed around the hug with her recorder in hand.

_ “When you never came in it was almost too easy to assume the worst! But you’ve beaten the odds and you’re fine!” _Entrapta clapped her hands together. She was back in her overalls and a BTS song Adora knew Bow loved was playing from her speaker.

_ “Well I’m not gonna be if you _ strangle _ me to death, Scorpia!” _

_ “Oh, oh!” _ Scorpia released Catra and she stumbled backwards into a waiting Adora. _ “Sorry, I’m just _ so _ relieved.” _

_ “Yeah, that much was obvious, Scorp.” _coughed Catra. As Scorpia wiped alligator tears from her eyes and Entrapta came to hang on her left arm, Catra threw a sly glance back to Adora and the corner of her mouth upturned. Adora’s hand had fallen to her bruises, the chill settling deeper, the echo of her last coherent thought becoming louder.

And it replayed and replayed and replayed. Those three _ gut-wrenching, _life changing words were promising to become a broken record that was going to drive Adora in-freaking-sane still repeating as she followed Catra, flanked by a loyal Scorpia and Entrapta, back into the fray of the living room. As Bow stood up, leaving Glimmer there on the couch nursing an almost cup of tea and ran to Adora, asking a million and one questions, one after the other. As Mermista and Sea Hawk walked out with the rest of their party guests, Perfuma had tried in vain to give Frosta a piggy back as an alternative to let her try the last little bit of the florist’s bottle of organic hard lemonade while Marshmallow threw back on her faux fur coat. 

Now Adora was sitting in Angella’s car and staring, her vision half-focused, at all of the people that had experienced today with her. Of course, none of them rode the specific roller coaster of emotions, the brutal ups and downs and twists and turns, that had landed her right here holding her arm and staring out into Mermista’s driveway thinking the same three words over and over, and then somewhere among them another four words rang loud and clear: _ I am so screwed. _

“Wait, why did you take this?” Adora could hear Mermista asking Marshmallow as she drove her focus to anywhere, _ anywhere, _but the conversation Catra was having with her roommates about a frozen yogurt race, “it’s not even real gold.”

“Oh, so I can keep it then?”

This was a whole new level of anxiety and it wasn’t one Adora had prepared herself for or armed herself against. Because she hadn’t ever thought that she would have to _ fear _ this feeling and the disastrous implications it possessed. Yes, Adora was _ aware _ that this was the logical progression of romantic relationships; you became drawn to someone on a physical or emotional level or both, you started dating them, and then at some point of dating them that mental and physical connection that was once just a flame of attraction turned into...into something else. Into what had taken over her heart like a rampant wildfire and stunned Adora into scared silence. 

Wasn’t this _ the _ feeling, _ the _ sentiment, that made people want to scream the name of their lover from the rooftop, shout the words themselves into the sky? Wasn’t this three word sentence what most people searched their whole lives for? Started wars for? Ran themselves into the ground for? Had all those characters in all those stories she’d loved reading lied to her about what this really made someone feel? ‘Cause Adora didn’t want to shout anything right now. All she wanted to do was throw up. And hide. She wanted more than anything to curl up into a little ball and wiggle under her covers and freeze to death in the midst of this realization, so that Catra would never know how she _ really _felt about her and could never hate for it. 

Adora had been fighting it for weeks now even though she could feel igniting her whole system everytime she so much as _ looked _ at Catra. Deep down Adora had known this was how she really felt for a long, _ long _ time.

_ Why do you think you stay up so late just to talk to her? Or why you wrote her and yourself in She Ra like _ that _ ? Why do you think this week tore you apart and that not talking to her rendered you so useless? _ What _ do you think gave you the bravery to go after her tonight and every night before? _

Yeah. Adora had known but fought the truth- in vain- because she was a hypocrite and a coward, and just_ so _ scared to lose Catra over again. Being wrenched from her the first time had been akin to dying there in Mara’s passenger seat watching Catra fade away in the rearview mirror, and every single time Catra’s place in Adora’s life was encroached upon, it was like she died all over again. That was why Adora couldn’t tell Catra that she was having thoughts like this one, not when everything was raw and fragile and any wrong move could send Catra packing her bags. For Pete’s Sake, they had just worked through _ this _ issue there in the water tonight, and they had so many more lined up in their psychological queue, Adora could not throw this on the pile. Adora could _ not _ burden Catra by throwing this on her, by saying words that beget a response that if not given, would break them for good.

“Ubering does have advantages, you know.” Adora’s ear betrayed her and she heard Catra saying, and the three word cycle started all over again as if it was mocking her pain, “Like, do _ you _know where all the frozen yogurt places are in the city, Arrow Boy?”

“Okay, um, I’m starting to have second thoughts about this, Glimmer.”

“Arrow Boy, that’s a new one.” yawned Glimmer.

“I don’t happen to think having a new nickname is a good thing.”

“Well it’s better than Rainbow, right?”

“Yeah, but Arrow Bow reduces me to only _ one _of my interests. I love archery but I also love antiquing, moral philosophy, action figure making, volunteering-”

A hand brushed Adora’s shoulder and the contact of damp skin on her own snapped her from spiral, “Hey,” Adora glanced up to find Catra looking down at her, concern flickering in her split eyes and a frown gracing her features. Adora’s heart lurched. “You okay?”

_ “You okay?” _ Adora had covered her words with a thin line of laughter as she asked Catra how she was doing, hoping she wasn’t coming across as her usual neurotic and overbearing. _ Man, what kind of mom would I be? I can barely watch Catra do this without stepping in, and how would I treat my own kid? _She remembered thinking as she kept one hand under Catra’s back, the feel of her scars ghosting Adora’s fingers, as she supported Catra’s attempt to float on her back for the first time. 

“_ Mhm,” _eyes clamped shut and hands on Adora’s wrist crushing the bones of her wrist, Catra forced her neck up out of the water to nod. 

_ “Oh, that’s good. I’m- I’m glad you’re doing good. I- I mean you’re _ doing _ good, if that makes any sense.” _Okay, so that hadn’t been her most successful try at being poised and confident. But she’d have other shots, right?

_ “Yeah, that’s great Adora but I need you to shut up,” _ Catra had hissed through grit teeth and Adora couldn’t help the laugh that slipped through her lips. It just wasn’t like her girlfriend to ever let Adora- or literally anyone on the face of the planet- watch her fumble in such a vulnerable position like this one. Adora had been flattered and even honored to the highest degree that Catra would trust _ her _ to help her wade into her fears and learn how to conquer them; pushing her buttons right then when Catra let her guard melt away and held onto Adora’s hand as she had guided her onto her back was definitely not a good idea, and a pretty sucky way to show her gratitude. But still, it made Adora smile to think _ she _got to be this person for Catra.

_ “You know,” _ Adora started as she had tried to pull her arm out Catra’s death grip, _ “this would actually be easier if you relaxed a little.” _

Catra’s eyes had flown open, _ “ _ You’re _ telling me to relax?” _She had not let go.

_ “Okay, I see the irony there and that’s fair, totally fair, but maybe, I dunno, you’re better at this than you think you are?” _Adora moved her hand lower down Catra’s back, eyes glued to the sunburnt freckles dotting her nose and illuminated by the lights glowing in the yard.

_“Ugh, whatever,” _sighed Catra, _“what am I even supposed to do, and do _not _say_ _let go, Princess, I swear to God-”_

_ “I won’t let go, Catra! I promise. Now, just puff your chest up a bit and spread your legs.” _Adora had instructed.

Not even fighting the smirk on her face at this point, Catra kept one eye open as she teased, “_ You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” _

_ “I can let go-” _

_ “NO!” _ she’d shrieked, fingers digging into her wrist, and Adora burst out laughing. 

See? Catra wasn’t the only one who lacked the tact to poke and prod and tease when prompted. Considering the terrifying circumstances Catra was subjecting herself to in a leap of momentous faith, Adora was relieved she could still crack a joke. If someone had lured Adora into facing a fear of this degree- like going back to CBT… or facing Mrs. Weaver again- Adora shuttered at the thought. There wasn’t any telling if Adora could pull off the bravery Catra was exhibiting right now, but that didn’t come as any surprise.

Eyes fluttering closed again, Catra followed through on Adora’s instructions, albeit at a snail’s pace. Her knees unlocked and her bare legs floated out towards the deep end. Blood rushed to myriad of places as Adora watched Catra’s chest rise (all bets were off when Catra had taken off the Haiwaiin shirt, which was already making her the sexiest lesbian on the block, but now, Adora’s brain was turning straight to goop). Adora had done as she promised and did not completely drop her hand from Catra’s back, only loosened her grip while Catra took a deep breath, _ “Like this?” _she has asked.

“_ Yeah _ ,” Adora nodded, watching a smile that showed her teeth bloomed on Catra’s face and her split eyes opened, _ “that’s perfect.” _She was perfect.

Hindsight was always 20/20. In that moment, that _ perfect _moment, Catra’s guard wasn’t the only one let down and Catra was not the only person exposed in the waters of their greatest fears. As Adora stood there just looking at her girlfriend laughing just a little as she glowed in the soft blue light framing her from under the water, thinking about this demonstration of trust, this rift that was healing between her, her guard was down for the count, and the words just hit her out of nowhere.

She had almost dropped Catra right then and there. By some miracle Adora held on, kept one foot in reality, and didn’t abandon her to drown just to run away like she was so good at. By some miracle Adora kept her big mouth shut, kept those three words where they belonged away from her tongue, and managed to bar them from intruding as the party came to a close before her panicking mind. 

_“You okay?” _Right, Catra had asked that. Oh no, how long ago had that been since she’d spoken? Had Adora zoned out again? _Crap!_ _I’m screwed! I’m so, so, so, so, so screw-_

“Adora?” Catra squeezed her shoulder.

“Oh,” Adora looked up and caught her eyes. _ Oh God. _ Her own hand came up to grab Catra’s, “yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.” Tired, and freaking out and about to have to get _ much _better at keeping secrets if she was going to keep Catra. Because it was only a matter of time before those gold and cerulean eyes saw straight through her. 

Everyone saw through Adora eventually.

“I am right there with you,” Catra’s gaze shifted even when her hand stayed put as she looked over to Bow still lecturing Glimmer and her numb facial expression about his multi-faceted personality, “‘M gonna have one bitch of a hangover tomorrow but, I guess I deserve that.”

Squeezing her fingers, Adora shook her head. Knowing- and finally facing- what she knew now about how she really _ truly _ felt about Catra, hearing her degrade herself to that degree somehow cut much, much deeper than before. How had _ everything _ changed during that moment in the pool? And _ how _was Adora supposed to not blurt this new little secret out the second Catra said something cruel about herself! ‘Cause that gave her a grace period of about ten freaking seconds! She’d barely last the week.

_ Oh God. _

“Bow,” Glimmer was saying with her hand on her forehead, “can we save this animosity for Catra when we are trying to beat her at this frozen yogurt race? My head hurts really bad and we all think you’re a great guy with lots of layers! Can you please just stop talking?”

Bow’s expression sobered up in the blink of an eye, “Oh yeah, of course Glimmer. Here, let me help you to the car. Good thing we’re coming back tomorrow to get all the food? Angella would be very upset if anything happened to her good coolers.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m _ so _ excited to be coming back _ here _tomorrow and dealing with the catering, let’s go home now.”

“Hey Wildcat!” shouted Scorpia from over by Marshmallow/Catra’s car. Adora was semi-aware the other woman had been saying goodbye to Perfuma- _what the heck was going on there? Was that serious? Can I put that in She Ra?- _but now Perfuma and Frosta were gone, the florist’s Prius no longer in the elongated driveway. She must’ve taken Frosta back to her family’s penthouse in the city. “Are you going with Adora or do you wanna go back to the apartment with us cause uh, we’re leaving now!”

“My speaker is dying and I need to feed Emily, stat!” Entrapta yelled, trying to stick her out the window only to get her giant purple buns stuck on the car’s rim.

“Guess that’s my cue.” Catra sighed and the heat of her fingers stayed on Adora’s shoulder even as she pulled her hand away, clashing with the cold that was rapidly spreading. “Um, are we good? Like, will I see you tomorrow? Or will you call, at least?”

The fear leaking into Catra’s voice as she rubbed her arm made Adora feel like she was looking into a mirror. Nodding and forcing a held-together smile, Adora reassured her like it was as easy as breathing, “Yeah, we’re good, Catra. I’ll try and come by tomorrow.” _ And hopefully not ruin everything again, if I haven’t turned to straight ice by then and Sea Hawk hasn’t made a fancy smoothie out of me. _

“Oh,” Catra tucked a curl behind her ear- the pool water had tightened the coils until she had a full halo that were probably the reason Adora had slipped head first into this deathly feeling in the first place- and tried to hide her own smile before leaning down to leave a kiss that was too short, too cruel, on Adora’s lips. She pulled out of the doorway and winked, “Okay then, Princess. See ya.”

_ See ya. _ What a strange goodbye compared to the rest of their day, Adora wondered, running her fingers over the heat left on her lips. The silence, the show, the fight, the healing; Adora felt so _ lost _in all of it, a messy mixture of every emotion of today blocking out her damning thought, as she watched Catra walk to her car. The Haiwaiian shirt was back on her back, and it almost caught as she climbed in the back seat. From the windshield, Adora could see Catra get into with Marshmallow, the unlucky driver, the second her seatbelt was over her chest. A familiar roar of an engine hit Adora’s ears, and then the headlights were blinding her vision with white-hot light. Just like that, she could no longer see Catra.

_ See ya, _ Adora’s heart fell as she pulled her own legs in and closed her own door, _ Catra. _

“All in all,” Bow was saying and Adora looked up at the steering wheel as she heard the click of his seat belt. Glimmer took her seat next to her, throwing her injured head back on the head rest the second her door had closed, “I’d say that wasn’t a bad party.”

“Can you believe Mermista said that _ wasn’t _ their worst pool party? I almost _ drowned! _ Ugh, my mom’s gonna be so mad at me.” moaned Glimmer. 

“Yeah, that’s definitely gonna be a fun phone call. Maybe we should wait until your concussion is completely gone? If we tell her now she’s gonna show up with your aunt and even more food.” Bow commented, blowing air out of his lips.

“I’d take drowning again over that, actually.”

“Glimmer!” their roommate threw his hands up in the air, “I told you not to joke about that!”

“You’re not the boss of me,” mumbled Glimmer under her breath, and even half present, Adora had to blame that on the low-grade concussion. Exhausted and in the middle of an unprecedented existential crisis, Adora doubted she’d be of any help through the night keeping Glimmer from more medical complications, so it would be up to Bow to take the brunt of the work. Here’s to hoping he had managed to comprehend all of Entrapta’s instructions. Here’s to hoping those instructions weren’t nonsense.

Bow’s voice once again broke Adora’s train of thought. “Oh Adora, you gonna put your seatbelt on?”

“Huh? Oh. Oh yeah.” Head snapping up, Adora took a shaky breath and tried to focus on what her friend had asked her to do. _ Put your seatbelt on, turn the car on, don’t think about Catra and how you are completely one hundred percent in- oh, God, oh God, oh God. _

“Are you okay, bae?” Glimmer asked. Her best friend’s hand came to rest on her forearm, right on the bandage and the fading bruises.

“Yeah,” Adora gave a weak nod and swallowed, looking out the windshield at an empty driveway winding beyond her eyesight. She could see it all in front of her: the backyard as she and the Best Friend Squad walked into the party, her bleeding arm, Catra’s legs as she’d tried climbing out of the pool, Glimmer tripping back into the deep end, the look of worry on Scorpia’s face as she looked out the door, her girlfriend floating in the water because she trusted her enough to hold her steady. Those images replayed and replayed, those three words repeated over and over and over. Catra’s freckles, her curls, the bikini doing amazing things for her chest- all of it had left Adora’s whole body suspended in some sort of emotional hypothermia longing for thaw. Because even in the silence of the car the truth echoed those three words that were like a dooms-day promise, “but I think I just realized I’m in love with Catra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohmygodit’soverthankthelord (i lowkey feel like brian david gilbert at the end of every unraveled video)
> 
> one more thank you to Ren, who I basically owe this victory of getting this fic up to. ilysm. 
> 
> thank you so much for reading! For putting up with me and my long winded dramatic bitch self. So grateful for your support and love. I do this for you guys! :D
> 
> I am excited to move on the next project, one last one shot that focuses on just Adora and Catra (Angella will be making an appearance) and maybe, just maybe it will have to do with Adora’s little realization at the end there…
> 
> Please remember my note from before <3
> 
> [b99 hint for cruel summer](https://pin.it/739Yy08)  
sorry bout the pinterest block for anyone who gets it, once all the hints have been released all upload them all on my tumblr.
> 
> see ya next time! stay safe until then, xoxo


	6. useless phrases (finally safe for me to fall)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now the truth was sitting in Catra’s lap; gone were the lies and the deceit that disguised it before, and it was just another useless phrase.”
> 
> When a blizzard hits Bright Moon and Adora reveals she’s been struggling with side pain for the last three days, Catra has to drive her up to the hospital in the snow. But as it turns out, and as all good storms reveal, acute appendicitis hasn’t been the only thing Adora’s been hiding from Catra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *grabs mic* how’s everyone doing tonight?
> 
> As I am uploading this, it has officially been TWO weeks of Catradora canon! And as someone who put in two novels worth of work in the name of the ship, I could not be feeling more validated.
> 
> And grateful. 
> 
> She-Ra has opened my life to so many things and somehow managed to still be everything I ever dreamt of seeing in a TV show. I’m glad to have had this experience, especially right now where there is so much grief being experienced by so many people in the world. I’m grateful for you guys in a way I could probably never successfully articulate. 
> 
> thus ends the second, but not last part of the upper west side universe. Thank you for taking this journey with me, thank you for being patient and respecting my boundaries and allowing me to figure out each and every aspect. Thank you for giving me room to explore, and ultimately to learn. Thank you for trusting me with these topics and these characters.
> 
> !!!!! Speaking of topics, big ol content/ trigger warning here for suicide attempt. It is a mention of an attempt, but there is no graphic detail, mostly discussion surrounding the emotions of the event and less the event itself.
> 
> Also, big disclaimer: I am not in any way a medical professional. And in the spirit of Noelle and the rest of crew-ra pissing off astrophysicists, I am probably about to piss off a bunch of people in the medical field. For the sake of plot, I decided to go by TV rules. Please spare me the comments about accuracy, know that I probably know it’s wrong, and that I chose to do it anyway because it kept the more important aspects intact.
> 
> Please take care of yourself. 
> 
> Love,  
Savannah

Catra was going to fucking freeze to death in Marshmallow’s car. 

In the back of her mind (the parts that weren’t already icicles or at the very least, frosted over) she’d always known that Bright Moon, in all of its phony, fronted glory was probably gonna get her killed. Just because it was teeming with idiots of all socio-economic classes high on their own beauty and drama didn’t make the place any different from anywhere else Catra had lived. Every town, every metroplex, every nameless city; they were all cruel enough to try and take her out once and for all before she scurried off to her next couch, her next little nest, her next hideaway. 

It’s not like this metropolis of meatheads -sorry, _ royal _meatheads- hadn’t tried a swing at her before. A characteristic combo of extremely poor planning on part of City Hall and underpaid contractors was what landed her and Marshmallow’s Toyota in a ditch nine months ago, no thanks in part to Bow’s dads and their nonrefundable opera tickets. 

“And if it doesn’t start heating this fucking place up, it’s gonna end right back in that ditch, dumb car!” Catra pulled her ear away from her ringing cellphone to drive her fist right into Marshmallow’s precious dashboard. _ Shit! _ She squeaked as the returned force traveled up her arm like a sound wave through air. The pain was a only momentary distraction but it was a welcome momentary distraction from the cold that reached places in her body that should _ never ever _be cold. God she was gonna kill Adora for making her wait. And then, after she set this piece of junk on fire, she was going straight after the car’s cheapskate owner. 

_ Dumbass Queen _ told _ me the heat was working! Snow storm of the fucking century and it’s gonna wipe me out because Marshmallow can’t shell out the money to keep this stupid piece of crap working! _Catching a glimpse of the graying sky, Catra let out a low growl and flipped on the wipers with her pinky.

Okay, yeah, whatever; Catra was never in any _ actual _ danger of dying in that excuse of a ditch, but spending seven weeks in that itchy cast losing her best, most _ expensive _ pencils every time she tried to scratch whatever itch was keeping her up at five-fucking-thirty in the morning made her _ wish _ she was dead. That had to count for something, right? And of course Bright Moon was going to try again to take her out right now of all perfectly convenient times for her, right when it found her alone and trapped in an icebox on wheels. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again, right?

Fuckers. Always had to go and prove her point, didn’t they?

_ “Your call has been forwarded to automatic voicemail-” _

“Ughhhhh.”

_ “-please leave a message after the tone.” _ Catra pinched the bridge of her nose, nails digging into skin, as the grating automated voice abandoned her and the voice of her girlfriend followed, “ _ Hi, you’ve reached Adora! I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave message or send a text,” _

“Tried that _ already _, Adora-”

“-_ and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible! Than-” _ Stiletto nail landing on the red of her cracked screen, Catra slumped back in her seat until her hair hit chilly leather, the phone falling into her lap as she pulled her legs closer hoping it would warm her up. No point in deciding to leave a “where the fuck are you, it’s been forty five minutes, I think I have hypothermia,” message on her fifth unanswered call. No point in sending another text message that would stay on Sent but Unread. She didn’t _ want _ to play the waiting game- ‘cause she knew what a sore loser she could be- but sometimes Adora just got like this. All up in her pretty little head and just inches out of Catra’s reach, usually either working, or panicking, or both. 

_ She probably just got caught up in packing and lost track of time, _ Catra brought her hands in front of her face and rubbed her palms together (‘cause the stupid fingerless gloves worked for shit as _ gloves _ ) hoping the resulting friction would cause a few seconds of warmth, _ she can never ever decide if she’s gonna need all sixteen sweaters and every pair of socks she owns. And then, after pulling all her clothes out of her drawer and then putting them back, she takes ‘em all anyway. Dork. _

Adora was a grown up. She didn’t need Catra to hold her hand or pack her own clothes for her or rush her out the door before she had every box on her little to-do list checked. As much as Adora brought out that ugly clinginess in Catra’s personality, that _ what-are-you-doing-where-are-you-going-can-I-come-you-smell-good _obsessive kinda crazy no one else drove her to, Catra knew that part of her was that of a selfish, bratty child and that what Adora actually needed was for Catra to kick that clinginess to the curb and give her some space. ‘Cause how else was Adora gonna work through her own brand of crazy?

Exhaling against quivering lips, Catra watched as her breath formed in front of her split eyes above the steering wheel and brought her closed fists to rest on her chin. A violent chill tore through her system, and her tits were practically rock hard against her arms. _ They’re probably frozen. Fun! Fuck me. _ God, it had to be below freezing in this cramped, metal refrigerator. The edges of her vision were a grayish white that made her stomach sick, and she didn’t dare look at the windows or out the windshield, not in the mood to scream or start pulling clumps of curls out. A lining of fresh snow being packed flake by flake on every glass surface of the car was _ just _the reminder that Catra needed that she was about to be driving ninety minutes up state in Bright Moon’s latest- but far from the most creative- attempt to kill her: a motherfucking blizzard. 

“C’_ mon _ Adora,” Catra ran her hands up and down the sleeves of her leather jacket, teeth jittering and knees knocking, “I took an entire weekend off of work for this dumb trip, could you _ please _hurry the fuck up?” 

The snow and all its sadistic intentions had started before sunrise this morning, a fact Catra learned the hard way when neither of her roommates went into work and ruined her chance to sleep in until noon. What was the whole point of taking a vacation if she couldn’t catch up on some goddamn sleep? _ “Oh my Gosh, Catra! It’s snowing!” _Scorpia basically flattened Catra to her mattress like a pancake as the native southerner ran over to the apartment’s only window- right where Catra had parked her bed- and opened the blinds to a shock of endless white covering the alley. 

_ “Mmmmgh,” _ Catra had moaned face down into her pillow, wrapping her arms around her stuffed salvation to bring it closer. No _ duh, _ it was snowing. Unlike the dry, more tepid winters of her childhood, winter hit like a bitch here in this part of the country (the only thing that hit harder than the hellish mix of wind chill and frost were the series of migraines that the change in temperature brought her every year for Christmas without fucking fail). And Scorpia had lived in Bright Moon longer than Catra had! You’d seen one snow storm, you’d seen ‘em all! Catra figured that that was reason enough for Scorpia to keep her childlike wonder to herself since Catra _ was _ trying to sleep and all- until the realization of what the snow _ meant _ for her day’s plans gave her the strength to bolt upright in bed, bouyant curls flying over her head, “ _ Fuck!” _

No matter how many times Catra had refreshed the weather app on her phone- and her battery was begging her to stop- the forecast only promised a worsening, growing storm that would make driving up to Castaspella’s country house a cunt and half. Getting to Adora’s apartment as the snow started coming down even heavier and without any mercy had Catra braking- and cursing- like a demon. It’s not like dealing with this lack of traction and this much slush was in her wheelhouse; Catra was stuck bagging groceries and taking the bus last winter (and _ every _previous winter in this dumb boring-ass city) so she was still months away from the Ubering gig that got her stuck outside Adora’s apartment being buried in snow in the first place. 

At least Marshmallow hadn’t cheaped out on snow tires the same way the drag queen cheaped out on the cooling and heating system (ugh, summer was gonna suck _ ass _in this car) and Catra wasn’t in danger of slipping off the salt covered asphalt. 

_ At least it’s _ just _ snow. If it was ice I think I’d actually go apeshit. Definitely don’t miss driving in those fun southern ice storms. _

“Adooraaaaaaa,” Catra whined to the empty car, her eyes pinned shut and nails digging into the skin of her cheeks. Was the car shaking around her or was she just shivering that much? “Where the hell are you? I’m about to _ die _of hypothermia.”

Keeping her eyes shut, Catra waited a few seconds. Adora had a habit of appearing in this car out the fucking blue and whenever Catra was _ least _ expecting it. Her demanding Adora manifest out of thin air was the perfect opportunity for Adora to stumble into the passenger seat, stuffed into a winter jacket on top of two different sweatshirts and three different beanies, rambling on about how sorry she was that she lost track of time and had her phone on silent. The _ perfect _ opportunity. It was _ literally _ never gonna be more opportune for Catra’s girlfriend to open the door and blast her in the face with a gush of freezing cold air than right now in _ three… two… one. _

Catra’s eyes flew open. “Son of a bitch!”

Okay, so willing Adora into the car using the full force of her mental frustration was about as useful as blowing up her cell phone. _And about as lonely, hurray!_ That left Catra a couple of options, all of them as shitty as the next one. No, wait, scratch that suggestion off with her fingernails; her first option, the option of getting her freezing ass out of the car and wading through the street, over the sidewalk and up the steps hoping to God she wouldn’t slip and break a _second _goddamn bone this year, took the cake on shitty options. Like hell was Catra going to untangle her frozen limbs from her tiny, miserable little huddle that was giving her _some _warmth just to turn straight into a block of ice like some cartoon character the second she opened the door when her other option, the lesser of two shitty ones, was just to sit here, wait some more, and pray her exposed fingers wouldn’t get frostbite before her girlfriend decided to show face. 

_ Why is everything with Adora a test of my freaking patience? First, she wears those dumb sports bras that take for fucking ever to take off, and now I have to wait for an hour out here in the stupid snow? _

“Ugh,” Catra sighed into her hands, warming up her fingers for a solid half a second.

_ Maybe Scorpia packed me a blanket. _

Catra’s eyes once again flew open at this newest realization, her elbows colliding with her tits for the second time in the last minute as she shivered violently. Forgetting her fetus position (like it was doing her any good), Catra’s attention flew to the stuffed duffel bag she’d thrown onto the passenger seat before leaving her own apartment_ . Right. Right! Holy shit! Thank God for that overprotective dummy! _

Scorpia, the overprotective dummy herself, had spent most of this morning shadowing Catra’s half-assed packing efforts (Entrapta was too busy digging through all their cabinets for the tiny mugs she bought for the sole purpose of making hot chocolate in to entertain/distract Scorpia with a winter wonderland movie marathon that probably included a pirated version of _ Frozen II _), muttering some nervous rambling under her breath each and every time Catra shoved something in her bag for that weekend. And because ignoring Scorpia never actually made the other woman leave her alone, Catra broke down before she could even grab her toothbrush from the bathroom.

_ “What’re you doing, Scorpia?” _Catra had tossed the bag back onto her bed before turning to stare her roommate down. 

Shifting her weight from one foot to another, Scorpia was quiet as Catra wished she would’ve been this morning during prime sleep-the-fuck-in-hours when her roommate had replied, “_ I’m just worried you won’t be warm enough for this trip, wildcat. You know, now that it’s snowing and all?” _

_ “Scorpia, it’s not _ that _ big of a deal.” _ Catra had thrown her head back, letting out a small whine, _ “I’m just going upstate with Adora and the Rainbow twins to Sparkles’ aunt’s place for like, three days. Sparkles wanted backup for some relative’s dumb birthday party and said I only had to be there for like twenty minutes and besides, Adora wanted us to have a weekend to ourselves since we’re both gonna be working on Valentine’s Day. We’ve been _ over _ this, Jare- I mean, we’ve been over this, Scorpia.” _

Because Catra was still at that moment trying not to talk herself out of this whole crazy charade (first, Sparkles invited her to something without a gun to the glitter in her hair, then it wasn’t even in the fucking city, then Adora was making it out to be some romantic getaway and then, of all joyous weather phenonemons that could’ve struck at the last minute, it started fucking _ snowing! _), she found her explanation becoming a full on stage monologue- of all gross turns it could’ve taken- and her shoulders tensed in personal disgust as she dug her nails into the exposed skin of her stomach. 

_ Ugh _, Catra had shuddered in the wake of her response and forced her gaze up to the water stain shaped like one of those ugly Minions (Entrapta had named him Kevin) on their ceiling, humiliation heavy on her tongue. Since when did being in a committed relationship make her so god damn see through? And on top of that, such a fucking nerd?

_ “I know, I know. But what about some mittens, or- or you can borrow my ear muffs! They’re shaped like bunnies!” _ Catra, hands on her hips, had sent her a look, _ “Okay fine, no to… all of that, but will you at least pack some warm pajamas? What if it’s really cold in Castapella’s house at night? She doesn’t have Entrapta to rig her heating unit like we do!” _ God, Catra didn’t even like, _ like _ Glimmer’s high-handed little aunt, but even she wouldn’t wish Trapta’s chaotic renovations on that woman or her house. _ “What if she’s one of those really weird people who likes the house cold at night?” _

_ “I don’t even wear pajamas, Scorp.” _ Catra had sighed, running her hands through her gray tufts frizzing by her ears before turning back to her duffel bag. This conversation was turning into a massive waste of time Catra didn’t have to spare. Brutal back-to-back shifts (if _ one _ more asshole took up their entire forty five minute ride gabbing on about their Gal-entine’s Day plans, Catra was about to start yanking highlights out) had brought her stumbling into the apartment around midnight, so packing had been a mute option compared to face planting into her pillow. And it’s not like Catra hadn’t known she’d be putting together a few outfits and scrambling for clean underwear at the last possible minute; Julien had her at the shop _ all freaking week _ and when she wasn’t shadowing him she was Ubering and when she wasn’t training she was trying in vain to study for her Graphic Design midterm and when she wasn’t doing that she was just flat out indulging her procrastinating ass, trying desperately not to talk herself out of going on this weekend and into doing something stupid- even for her- by ditching the whole thing because she hadn’t seen Adora in person in two _ fucking _ weeks.

_ “And I still don’t get that!” _ Scorpia had pressed on as Catra rolled her eyes again, _ “Isn’t that uncomfortable? Why- why do you sleep in your clothes, Wild Cat?” _

_ “Because when you couch surf “fluffy pajamas” only slow you down, and I would know because I couch surfed for five fucking years, Scorpia, so _ obviously _ I know how to pack a god damn bag and I know to pack it light!” _erupted Catra, a growl escaping and becoming a cry that left the two of them in a stunned and strained silence.

_ Crap. _

Catra found herself deflating and sighing, because the next step was an apology- a heartfelt and genuine one that required _ effort _ ‘cause Scorpia didn’t deserve her bullshit right now- and she was just so fucking tired already. The roadtrip hadn’t even started yet.

Doing this, taking this leap for her girlfriend, was already hard enough without Scorpia backing her into an emotional corner. She’d just wanted some _ rest _ before going out today, not to yell like a total bitch at her friend and her roommate. 

Squirming in the atmosphere she’d created by lashing out at Scorpia, Catra had reached out and grabbed the duffle, digging her nails into the fabric as a poor attempt to ground herself, pulling it closer to her chest. She didn’t bother making eye contact. _ “Look, I’m sorry I yelled but you don’t have to worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine.” _There was a heavy unspoken “I can take care of myself” in Catra’s reply.

_ “Oh, it’s- it’s okay, Catra. It doesn’t bother me- that much.” _ That was Scorpia. Always so quick to forgive the strike and forget the injury. “ _ But also, you’re not couch surfing anymore. You’re going on a nice trip with your girlfriend! It’s okay to want to be comfortable when you’re on vacation.” _

Clutching the duffle bag just an inch closer, Catra had sent her a wide-eyed look.

_ “Okay, well, I still don’t need PJs. Glimmer put me in one of Casta’s four hundred guest bedrooms with Adora so I’ll be sleeping with her, and she’s like a fucking furnace. I doubt I’ll be cold at night.” _Catra deflected before having flopped on the bed, a new kind of discomfort gnawing on her whole being. Had she really been treating this like it was some basement sofa she’d be crashing on until the tenant got the sense to kick her out? Did she still not see herself safe… even with Adora?

_ Guess I’m still running on those survival instincts, courtesy of Weaver and Hordak, _ the thought had rung in her head and she nursed the defeat it brought like a wound, but she found the venom unsustainable. Scorpia was right; this weekend wasn’t supposed to be short lasting shelter, it was gonna be her chance to take a break from all this mindless busy work, to catch up and _ be _ with Adora, and to not give a shit about being the little spoon for once because she just wanted to be held, and she just wanted to be warm. 

_ “Uh, that’s good. I guess. What about during the day?” _Catra had followed Scorpia’s line of sight out the window to a screen of white.

_ “Ugh!” _ growled Catra. Damn it, Scorpia was right. Again. She hadn’t even left the apartment yet and the tips of her fingers were already numb. So much for ‘Trapta turning the heater into a nuclear reactor. Why had she bothered getting out of bed today? _ “If I let you pack my stupid over night bag with all the warm stuff you want will you let up?” _Catra had enunciated the last few words as her roommate’s eyes started sparkling. 

_ “Yes, yeah! Of course, I promise, Wild Cat, I will _ not _ bother you-” _

_ “Uh huh, whatever. I’m going back to bed.” _But even Catra had stifled a yawn and tried to hand Scorpia the duffel bag, the muscles in her forearm had tensed, her grip tightening and knuckles going white. Scorpia tugged on the bag once, before making a small noise of confusion, and then again before Catra was ready to let it go. Breathing in through her nostrils, Catra had pushed the bristled hands of dissociation off her body and turned on her heel away from her roommate. 

She had crashed back into her comforter, Scorpia running off to go to work before Catra’s body could even hit the mattress, thoughts of having gone soft taunting her and teasing that growing feeling of helplessness in her lungs like something cancerous. It was a fucking Valentine’s Day miracle sleep took her and she didn’t scream into her pillow for the next thirty minutes. Or tear it up to a pile of feathers.

“Let’s hope Scorpia actually came through,” Catra muttered through her chattering teeth, undoing her seatbelt with a _ click! _ and tearing the zipper across the top of the duffel. A blanket, an afghan, hell a fucking Snuggie would work at this point; Catra was just hoping against hope to find one as she pawed through the few outfits _ she _ had thrown in there, the six pairs of neatly folded MegaMart fluffy socks, Scorpia’s bunny earmuffs, a plastic bag full of hot coco packets and leftover candy canes from the holidays, an extra sweatshirt that Catra assumed was borrowed from one of Scorpia’s performers ‘cause it read “ _ Condragulations” _and another gallon bag full of her toilitries and spare Excedrin pills (also packed by Catra), but not a friggin’ blanket. 

_ Well duh! You’re the idiot who made such a big deal out of not being cold at night! Dumbass. _

“Fuck. Me.” groaned Catra, shoulders slumping as her face planted straight into the bag and of Scorpia’s hopefully clean socks. Yep. That’s definitely how she was going to sum up her attitude towards this whole day, ‘cause it sure as hell wasn’t getting any easier! Scorpia had _ one _ job: make sure Catra wouldn’t become some hypothermic yeti version of herself out in the Bright Moon wilderness, and yeah, while her roommate had done pretty well and what she had packed had been actually super sweet and thoughtful and Catra was going to hell if she forgot to send her a “thank you” text before the end of the day, but here Catra was, turning a nasty shade of blue as the leather in her jacket froze to her skin because Scorpia packed old candy canes but not a fucking blanket and because Marshmallow had the worst car in the entire fucking world. Seriously! Who could make bank at a studio like that and not fix the car’s heater in the dead of winter? Who neglected a car to this degree and then gave _ Catra _ shit about an accident that happened almost a year ago? And where the _ hell _was Adora?

_ Something bad happened, _ a very tiny, very scared little girl whispered somewhere inside the locked parts of Catra’s brain and she lifted her face out the bag. Her frustrated hiss formed a cloud of cold air in front of her. _ No! No, _ Catra shouted back at that version of her, ramming her fists back into the socks, _ nothing bad has happened! Adora just lost track of time and got caught up in packing and is not looking at her phone! _

Digging her teeth into her lips, Catra’s brain forgot how to breathe and her heartbeat became the loudest thing in the car as panic locked her fingers in tight fists. Just like that the logic of where Adora probably was and what she was doing and why she wasn’t here in the seat next to her wasn’t working just fine like it had been five minutes ago; no, now Catra was seeing through the snow how fucked up it that she’d been sitting her alone for almost an hour. That wasn’t like Catra’s girlfriend, to stand her up or leave her hanging without any sort of explanation.

Adora told Catra _ this _morning over text right before sleep took her again and saved her from Scorpia’s singing that she’d be all ready to go by 3:15 exactly. And the numbers on the dashboard now read 4:07.

In the eleven months Catra had had Adora back in her life, Adora was barely ever late to anything and _ never _ was she late when it was just her alone. More often than not Adora was twenty minutes early and pacing back and forth while checking and then rechecking her phone. Fuck, usually _ Catra _was the late one. The fact that she hadn’t flown out the door with her backpack overstuffed with useless crap and ready to go the second Catra managed to pull the car up to the curb had Catra bouncing her knee up and down at the speed of fucking sound. One more look towards Adora’s front door- Catra almost swallowed her tongue when she couldn’t see the steps through the heaps of snow- resulted in nothing. No streak of blonde hair or pink sweatshirt or the sight of ocean eyes.

_ Damn it. Okay, I’m just gonna check my phone _ one _ more time, _ Catra tried to tell herself in the calmest manner possibly (she couldn’t freak out right now! She couldn’t!‘Cause what if nothing was really wrong and she made herself an ass in front of Adora? Again?) despite reaching down near her crotch like a fucking madman to grab her phone, _ and only if she hasn’t answered then I’ll get out and- _“Shit.” she griped when her phone showed no new notifications beyond some gif of Wall-E Entrapta had sent to the Super Pal Trio group chat.

Well, it wasn’t like she wasn’t gonna freeze out here eventually waiting for Adora to show up magically. And it was either gonna be Marshmallow’s fault _ or _ Adora’s, so. _ But I’d rather freeze to death ‘cause Adora got distracted than do _ anything _ for that lumpy pain in my ass. _

Pinning the blame on someone else might have been the easier choice, but it wasn’t the thought that got Catra off her frozen ass and got her shaking hand turning off the ignition, brain filling with anxious thoughts Catra was sure only her girlfriend was capable of (Oh God, was she turning into Adora after talking to her every day for almost a year? Fucking yikes. That couldn’t be good for either of them). Adora could be having a panic attack. She took the keys and stuffed them in her pocket with a huff of frustration. Adora could be having a flashback. Catra took a deep breath and put her hand on the door handle. Adora- that clutz- could actually be hurt.

Catra opened the door. 

“Holy _ fuck- _ ” the sharp blast of cold cut off any possible rage Catra sustaining her, striking her face first like some godless bastard shoving a fist full of of needles shoved straight into the her nerves of her skin all at once. She sucked in a deep breath that turned her throat frigid against her dry and chapped lips- she could thank the wind for that- and with the door propped open with the least amount of allowance possible, Catra stuck her boot out and onto the ground. At this point the only thing she could do was hope (of all pointless, _ useless _ moves) she didn’t slip on the slush the second she stepped out and break her spine in half. Catra had pulled a shit ton of stupid, irritational stunts in her life- some way more on purpose than others- but that, dying at the hands of the cold waiting for some Bright Mooner to run her body over and put her out of her misery, was might actually be one of the stupidest ways to go out, at least in her book.

_You better be dying Adora, ‘cause I’m gonna kill you. _

_

“Ugh, stupid fucking Bright Moon, stupid north east and their idiotic blizzards.” By some miracle or a stroke of luck she was sure she didn’t deserve, Catra managed to get up all three steps in one piece in under fifteen minutes. Why was it always such a fucking chore to get up these steps? Wasn’t it basically yesterday Catra was pulling Adora’s weight up to the front door when she had drunk herself stupid and loopy at the godawful temp job that was the whole reason she Ubering with Catra in the first place? _ Wow, I totally forgot about loopy Adora, _ Catra almost found herself smiling as her closed fist wavered over the door, _ now that Adora was a mess. A hot mess and a pain in my ass, but hey, can’t say she was boring. _

That third uber ride was the last time Catra got to see that hot, sloppy mess that was drunk and loopy Adora, the Adora that was never not trying to get Catra’s clothes off. Because her girlfriend had that whole unresolved issue around Mara lying to her about her birth parents meeting their untimely end at the hands of a drunk driver (except alcohol couldn’t kill you like a certain shut-in kingpin could; Catra could drink to that, and did, _ a lot _), Catra drank enough for the two of them. Yeah, Adora would do a shot or two and then nurse a low cal beer on their dates, but she never got past tipsy and into the full on nasty white-girl-complimenting-you-in-the-bathroom drunk. Now that they were actually sleeping together, Catra was sure she’d actually pay to see loopy Adora throw a drunken pass, just for fun.

_ I’m pretty sure Adora doesn’t drink in front of me _ because _ of how hammered she got that night. She was really embarrassed it happened at all. Like hell she’d let it happen again. _

“Ugh, I _ never _ get anything nice,” whined Catra. She pulled her hand away from the door, figuring knocking to announce her entrance wasn’t even deserved anymore- ‘cause seriously why would Adora scare her like _ this _ \- and decided just to open the damn door. It’s not like that’s not what she did when everything was normal and Catra wasn’t turning into a fucking snowman on her doorstep. “Hello? Sparkles? Rainbow? I’m coming in! Adora?” Catra called out as she turned the knob (duh, it was unlocked; these losers were just _ begging _to be murdered in their sleep) until she heard a click, threw her hands back in her pockets, and kicked the inch she’d created open wide.

The apartment that greeted Catra was a dark and empty one, and quiet, too; her stomach twisted at the sight and the way it almost screamed deserted compared the usual state she found whenever she barged in like this. Okay, fine, the _ first _ floor was without any sign of life, the lights off and the table cleared of any evidence of Glimmer’s afterhours baking or Bow’s one thousand and one hobbies, but it wasn’t like Catra could see any light coming down from the stairs or had any other sign that someone was here walking around on the second floor. _ Well _ fuck _ , that’s not good. How does this day _ keep _ getting worse?! _

Glimmer and Bow were long gone. They'd left some time this morning, Catra knew that because Adora had sent a text confirming when they took Sea Hawk’s borrowed Chevy upstate around noon, since Castaspella needed help for the party, or wanted more time to catch up with her favorite niece since Glimmer never called, or something. The four of them had made the collective choice not to carpool in the interest of not killing each other. Catra had Marshmallow’s piece-of-trash car so she could drive Adora, and spare both of them from having to listen to Glimmer rant about FinnPoe not being canon in that dumb Star Wars movie she had dragged them all to back in December _ over _ Bow’s audio book of whatever self help crap he was into this month. Without Glimmer and Bow’s over the top antics to fill the room, it made sense the apartment was empty and- _ is the heat off in HERE TOO? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST- _void. 

So where was Adora?

A shiver seized Catra, along with the _ super _helpful thought that it wasn’t the cold that was causing the painful sensation along her spine. Hand falling back behind her, she leaned back on her heel and closed the door to shut out the wind, and the darkness enveloped her. Split eyes blinking back into the gray, Catra shouted again, “Adora? Are you here?”

_ She better be here, _ Catra’s lip quivered, _ ‘cause if she’s not, if she ditched me and ran off, if she actually _ left _ me- no! No, Adora said she wouldn’t do that if she could help it, she _ said _ she wouldn’t leave me again and-and I trust her. _

“Hey Adora!” Her foot hovering over the first stair and her nails digging into the wooden railing, Catra called out and listened to her voice echo back to her. “You better not be dead or-or sleeping! I took a whole fucking weekend off of work for this so-”

_ CLANK! _

Catra perked up. _ That sounded like something metal hitting the floor. _ And Catra could verify that having lived with Entrapta for almost two years and that little mad scientist knocking her tools around was practically the white noise that put Catra to sleep every night. Either someone _ was _here and knocking stuff around and that person was Adora, or someone broke in hoping to come away with jewelry or electronics to pawn. Hope they liked war table battle figures and Hot Topic buttons instead.

_ Fucking figures! This is what Adora gets for leaving the door unlocked! She left me in the freezing car for an hour so she can stay up here and get murdered! Ugh, it’s like we didn’t even grow up in the same place. _

“Adora- you know what, fuck it. I’m coming up!” Catra called up, the sound of her boots hitting the steps accenting her announcement. In the three seconds it took her to fly up the stairs, Adora/whatever intruder was making themselves at home up there didn’t bother making any more noise and Catra didn’t know whether to find that comforting or just plain creepy. 

_ Okay, it’s dark up here, too _. Catra let out a huff as she looked around, crossing her arms and tapping her nails against her sleeve. The windows that lined the wall between Adora’s room and the rooms of Professor Arrows and Princess Yells-A-Lot were the only source of light coming in, the fourteen hundred framed photos of Best Friend Squad that adorned the wall illuminated by a soft gray streaming in through the open blinds. That beam of gray light touched the small additional living space that sat between the rooms (one of Catra’s favorite places in this way too posh apartment- seriously there was a kitchenette up here along with a sofa and board game covered coffee table, who the hell needed any of that?!- besides Adora’s bedroom; upstairs the two of them could spread out and work on She Ra in peace, legs brushing as they sat parallel on the couch, Catra teasing Adora with her toes and exaggerated squeaks and yawns until her girlfriend’s focus broke, one of them tackled the other and work ultimately turned into pleasure) giving it that same unsettling vibe that reminded Catra too much of waking up alone in that bottom bunk at Mrs. Weaver’s house to another day of torture.

Crouching down for the pocket knife she kept nestled in her boot, Catra took another deep breath as her eyes scanned for anything out of place, when-

“Ueghh.” 

“Who’s there? Show yourself and I maybe won’t rip your fucking throat out!” Catra threatened as she sprung up from the ground, gaze reaching over their little make out couch for the first time to see the kitchenette and the open knife dropped from her hand, “Adora?”

_She’s been up here the _entire _fucking_ _time?!_

The Adora that Catra found didn’t move, didn’t respond in any way, shape or form to the sound of her girlfriend practically squealing her name. Balled up and clutching her knees as she lay there in a tighter fetus position than the one Catra was using in vain to get warm back in the car against the back of a cabinet, Adora was moaning in an almost suffocated way, like she was trying to make the least amount of noise possible in the middle of this thriller movie in the making. Something about the way half of her hair had escaped that tight-ass ponytail of hers and that sweatpants-Bright Moon U t-shirt combo she wore was the farthest from winter gear told Catra Adora wasn’t exactly ready to go on their romantic weekend getaway.

_ I fucking told you something was wrong! I fucking told you she was hurt! _

“Adora? Babe?!” Catra didn’t wait for this version of her girlfriend to respond this time around before she was flying to her, sliding onto the floor and hitting her knees on the carpet. She could definitely say she wasn’t cold as ice anymore. Heart pounding in her ears and mind racing for an explanation- _ did she hit her head? Did someone hit her? Was someone here? It doesn’t look like anyone was here, fuck! Is she sick? Damn it, is she gonna get _ me _ sick? She was one the who dragged me to get that stupid flu shot!- _Catra intertwined her fingers with Adora’s left hand, shaking her shoulder with the other.

_ What the actual _ hell _ is happening here? Is she actually dying? Did she get stabbed? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- _

“Catra?” Adora mumbled in a hazy voice. A look of confusion crossed her eyes as she peaked up over her knees, and she almost smiled. Almost. “What-what are you doing here?”

“Uh, I came to pick _ you _ up, dummy. I’ve been sitting in Marshmallow’s car for the past hour freezing my ass off, what are _ you _ doing here? What the hell is going on with you? What’s wrong?” pressed Catra, trying- and failing- like a total idiot to keep fear from leaking into her voice when all it did was turn into anger. 

Squeezing Catra’s hand, Adora’s face fell into a pout and she pushed herself up into a sitting position, Catra’s free hand helping to guide her up only for Adora to shake her head before getting right back on her bullshit, “Nothing’s wrong, Catra. I’m fine.”

And that _ would’ve _been believable if Adora hadn’t almost immediately sucked in a breath the second the words left her mouth, her face contorting and grip tightening like she’d been pierced in the abdomen.

“You’re _ fine _ ?” Catra scoffed, “I just found you lying in a fucking fetal position after you stood me up for a whole hour and now you can barely sit up, so _ don’t _ play that card with me, Adora.”

Adora tore her gaze away from Catra’s and decided to channel it into the carpet instead. Part of that had to be on Catra’s shoulders for being such a pushy asshole (you’d think from dealing with those late night panic attacks Adora experienced, Catra would’ve learned long ago to tap into a gentler side of herself to help her freaking girlfriend). But her heart was beating so fast at this point that it was threatening to explode and all Catra could think about was the fact that the only other person who raised Adora died of a brain tumor that she hid until the last possible fucking second.

Adora had said before that there was more of Mara than she wanted there to be. 

_ Adora wouldn’t keep something _ that _ big of a deal from me, would she? No! No, she _ wouldn’t, _ unless- God, I can’t fucking deal with this right now! She’s in pain, does it really matter _ why _ she didn’t announce it to _ you _ of all people? _

Taking a shaky breath, Catra shook those thoughts from her head even if they were right on the money. With Adora in this kind of shape she couldn’t afford the luxury of fear right now. And fine, if getting Adora to cough up the truth meant growing the fuck up for a second so Catra could actually help her god damn girlfriend, then doing so and playing nice was her only option. 

“Adora- Adora, look at me. I’m- I’m not mad, okay? I’m not mad at you,” Catra started and Adora’s ocean eyes came back to her split ones, “but you gotta talk to me, ok? So I can help with- “ _ the fact that you’re totally dying and you’re going to abandon me and I’ll be stuck planning your funeral with _ Bow _ and _ Glimmer _ of all people _, “-with whatever is going on with you.”

There. That had to be a good enough attempt, right? One approved by emotion masters Bow and Scorpia. ‘Cause fuck her and fuck this being better thing if _ that _wasn’t good enough.

“It’s just cramps.” Adora’s response was a little too raspy for Catra’s taste.

“What? How is that possible? I’m not bleeding. And since when do you get cramps this bad, holy shit?” She ran her knuckles down Adora’s cheek, a quiet heat passing from her skin to Catra’s, and Catra frowned. _ Yeah, there’s no way she _ doesn’t _ have a fever. Jesus Christ, she’s like burning up. _

Catra then leaned back on the heels of her boots, hand still gripping Adora’s, trying to wrack her brain to see if it could even be right that Adora was having cramps. Thank fucking God Catra wasn’t spending this snow drenched weekend away at an acquaintance’s relative’s place on her period because that would just be the cherry on top, wouldn’t it? Because nature’s gift to her wasn’t the kind, easy breezy one her girlfriend got, the one with a normal amount of bleeding, a normal amount of emotional distress, and almost _ zero _ cramping anywhere in her body; Catra, on the other unlucky hand, had to deal with the heaviest fucking flow that her muscular contractions had to make up for some how with a burning, angry pain that wrecked her body and drove her and everyone else around her batshit crazy for six to eight days a month. As different as their cycles were, Catra knew that around month three of their frequent sleepovers they’d synced up. 

At least Adora getting off easy in this area meant Catra had permission for her world to end every twenty eight days and that Adora never took those personal apocalypses as personal. Mental and physical resources not worn away by the constant destruction pain could cause, Adora could be there and be patient with her girlfriend in a way Catra probably didn’t deserve, but was so fucking grateful for regardless. 

_ Another reason I can’t let her die on me. Who’s gonna run to the drug store for me at midnight no questions asked and come back with those little cinnamon candies I love so much? Definitely not Entrapta, that’s for fucking sure. _

It also meant that this- this miserable balled up position and pained expression and full on _ fever _\- sure as hell was not normal.

Head rolling back and bumping against the cabinet, Adora brushed her off again, “I’m probably just a few days early. We- we haven’t spent a lot of time together recently, so, maybe things are off?”

“Uh, yeah, we haven’t,” replied Catra. Whatever, she still didn’t like this. Work picks up and forces Catra and Adora apart for a couple of weeks and what, Adora’s body just _ succumbs _ to all that stress she can’t channel into punching some leather bag at the gym? She spends a couple months crashing on Catra’s mattress and just like she’s also having Catra’s Period From Hell? Yeah, Catra _ totally _ bought that. Brushing a lock of that escaped hair behind her Adora’s, Catra asked her, “You think you’ll be okay to go tonight? ‘Cause I’m more than okay with ditching this party if you want to-”

“No, no, I’ll be fine, Catra. I _ want _ to go, I want to spend this time with you and I want spend it some place nice and fancy and not cramped up in our apartments,” Adora exhaled, her neck coming back and knocking her forehead against Catra’s as she squeezed her hand.

There was a split second where something in Catra fractured like glass shattering at Adora’s words. Like some unspoken thing in Adora’s begging exposed a crooked line that ran straight down her center between the person Catra was losing sleep over trying to be- the one that ran with kind impulses instead of suffocating them, the one was considerate and actually listened, the one defined by the two bracelets she wore over her fingerless gloves- and the person that had started packing a light duffel bag out practice, out of survival. Adora _ wanted _ this weekend; Catra didn’t even have to see that yearning look on her face to know that because Adora had emailed her a planned itinerary for their time at Casta’s _ and _promised over text that she would wear something other than those impossible sports bras while they were together. Did it make Catra a total monster to take this away from her while telling her too bad, so sad? 

Did it make Catra a total monster to take Adora up there when there was something so clearly wrong with her? Whether it was one bitch of a fever- or something worse like, she didn’t know…cancer?!- was it gonna be on Catra’s head after Adora drove herself into the ground when she had a chance to make sure that didn’t happen, right here and right now?

Catra bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming as she took another look at Adora. _ Fuck, she’s really pale. Like, really _ really _ pale. _

“Look, if I’m gonna take you up there,” Catra let out a sigh, throwing her head back, “then we’re gonna have to do something about this. ‘Cause usually people don’t have super obvious fevers when they’re on their period. And _ you _definitely don’t.”

A smile broke out on Adora’s face and Catra swallowed. Either she’d gotten heartburn in the last forty five seconds, or her stomach wasn’t so sure how much longer it could sit with this conflicted guilt. The shit she did for Adora. “I have-” Adora squirmed as she tried to reply, “I have some Tylenol in my nightstand. The first drawer where I usually keep the- the She Ra notebook- _ ow,” _she finished in a hiss. Her free fingers buried themselves in the fabric of her shirt near her belly button. 

“I’m gonna go get it, okay? Try not to die until I come back.”

_ Everything- _ everything! _ \- is a fucking crisis of conscience with her! _

Somehow, by worry or guilt or concern or some shitty mix of the three, Catra managed to get off her ass and leave Adora just balled up there on the floor. That part of her that had taken a mother hen approach (Living with Scorpia _ had _ to be the cause of that, right? ‘Cause Catra was pretty sure the nurturing part of her died a premature death back in Hazing, Arizona.) screamed at her that getting up from her little overprotective squat by her girlfriend was only gonna end in disaster, but was beat out by the practical survivor in her. She could coddle Adora _ after _she dealt with this mess.

_ And I better be the big spoon when that happens, Adora! God, what the fuck is wrong with me? _

Striding into Adora’s room, Catra headed for the nightstand by the bed, her eyes taking in the space out of habit. Clean and calm, always the exact opposite of that little apartment with a mattress pushed up against an alcove, yet the gross Princess vibes of the white walls and pleated curtains had lost their effect on Catra about hundred sleepovers ago. Yeah, the one thousand petite cups covered in washi tape that Adora kept an array of pens in and the gigantic rainbow stacks of Post-It notes that lived by the stuffed unicorn Catra won her at the Bright Moon Winter Holiday Fair (and yes his name was Swifty, duh) screamed privileged _ and _ lame, but if there was any place in the world Catra was completely safe from the world that was _ always _trying to kill her, it was this eighty foot square room that never didn’t smell like vanilla. 

_ So I’m guessing the empty suitcase and backpack on her bed means she didn’t get very far with packing? _ Catra could almost roll her eyes at the sight of Adora’s open and waiting bags, if not for a new worry gnawing on her annoyance: just how long had Adora been feeling _ this _ shitty? Guess it must’ve started after Glimmer and Bow took off, unless Adora’s acting skills got that much better overnight and she managed to keep her feverous pain under wraps ‘cause she didn’t want to mess anyone’s day up.. 

_ Yeah but if anyone’s gonna miss Adora getting sick like this, it’s gonna be Sparkles and Rainbow. _

A sigh escaped her lips as she stopped in front of the night stand and planted her gloved hands on the wood. This was really what her life had come to, hadn’t it? Driving miles in a snowstorm just to find a zombie version of her girlfriend she was about to shove Tylenol down the throat of so she didn’t die and leave Catra all alone in this blizzard of misery. _ Coulda had just a normal fucking weekend off to sleep, but noooooooo. _ Catra’s line of sight scanned the purple piece of furniture, looking for any clues to jump out at her that would explain how she got here and why she was about to take Adora up state when she could still hear her moans from the kitchen, and then her eyes fell on a series of Polaroids that were spread across the surface. 

“The Halloween party at the bakery?” Catra’s mouth upturned as she picked up the first picture, a shot of her and Adora right before the night ended. Adora was beaming, because that’s just what happened when someone was the literal embodiment of sunshine, arms thrown around Catra’s neck and holding her close. _ Okay so I was right- again- Gringa out there isn’t usually this fucking pale. _ Catra had protested having this picture taken, and _ every _picture snapped of her that night, but the glossy material still managed to capture that smile she’d been fighting that eventually beat out her distaste for the whole damn thing. Nothing- no sense of pride or annoyance or exhaustion- could compete with Adora holding her like that and looking so unapologetic in her happiness, her expression a straight up middle finger to all those doubts Catra faced in the dead of night that Adora deserved someone so much better. And healthier. And stabler.

_ Oh great, this wonderful thought spiral again. Fucking fantastic! Thanks, Adora’s stupid picture of me. Ugh, Why. Did. I. Get. Out. Of. Bed today? _

The more time passed with Catra staring at the Polaroid chewing on her lip, the more of her own anxiety ridden animosity began to melt away like the snow turning to water on her jacket and she managed to take a deep breath like an actual functioning person. “What are these even doing out, babe? Ugh, Adora, Bow didn’t rope you into trying to scrapbook again? That last time was such a fucking disaster! Who burns themselves on a hot glue gun _ fourteen _times?”

Who was she talking to? Catra made a face at her own deep dive into stupidity, reflected back at her in the gloss of the Polaroid. Adora was all the way out there, and yeah, the door was wide open, but Catra bet she had bigger problems at the moment the answer her girlfriend’s berating about her inability to use craft supplies. Wait, what had Catra come in here to do? Wasn’t she supposed to be looking for something before she let herself get distracted by flimsy nostalgia and her typical brand of self hatred?

What was this? Catra’s first day? God, she was growing soft standing here in this freezing February air. 

_ Tylenol, Tylenol, Tylenol, where’s the fucking Tylenol Adora?! _ Catra’s search grew frantic as she began to open the drawers just to slam them shut, a desperate and loud attempt to shake off that cancerous feeling creeping up the scars on her back from when she couldn’t hand Scorpia a stupid duffel bag, and she swiped her hand over the surface, sending Polaroids everywhere. _ She said it was on the nightstand- oh Jesus, I forgot that party was Scorpia and Perfuma’s like, real first date. Ugh, and people give Adora and me crap for PDA. I can’t believe we spent it all of it in those dumb super hero costumes. _

Because everything normal with Adora’s flock of friends had to come wrapped in a big Bright Moon ribbon- or literally with a Bow- the Rebellion’s annual Halloween party wasn’t _ just _ a Halloween party. Of course not. Instead of some little bash with jello shots and some lame set up for bobbing for apples that Catra could at least drink at, or even a blockwide Trick-or-Treat stop for little kids where she could make some cash painting faces, Glimmer had this long standing tradition of throwing what she called an “outreach party/benefit” for LGBTQ youth in the neighborhood. That not only meant that Adora had to _ work _ the register the entire party, but that without her girlfriend’s arm to hang on, acne ridden teens with green hair and drawn on eyebrows got to gawk at her for hours _ and _apparently, no matter how hard she tried to get out of it, she still ended up a part of their dumb group costume by accident.

The Justice League, plus villains. That was their dumb choice of the year, because Glimmer was sick of Disney’s baiting bullshit or some other equally stupid reason that did not justify Catra dressing up in any way. At least those bakery bozos were open to suggestions from Scorpia and Entrapta; it was Entrapta’s costume in the works- which she wouldn’t have changed for any group theme anyway- that gave them the comic book idea in the first place, so Catra had to give them that.

Adora, who showed up that night one-upping everyone’s expensive cosplay grade outfits in a old Superman shirt, thrift store cheerleading skirt, with a tattered red blanket Bow lent her tied around her neck that she kept tripping over, had told that she didn’t mind if Catra didn’t want to dress up. Adora just wanted her to come, said she cared more about Catra being comfortable and being there than spending money on a costume she’d probably never wear again. But that was coming from the woman that got her homemade excuses for costumes of whatever monster they thought was cool that year covered in eggshell every single Halloween before Mara crashed their party, and not from two sets of roommates pouring all their free time and energy into peer-pressuring Catra into picking a superhero (“Or villain! We know you think they’re cool since you wanted to be the bad guy in She Ra instead of in the Rebellion, the _ cool _ side.”) and just pick up the Polyester made-in-China version of them at Party City. 

Thinking about this was her first Halloween back with Adora, Catra found herself motivated enough to put on something and call it a costume, in spirit of their disastrous trick-or-treats from a decade and half ago. She had done it for Adora and Adora _ only, _ and maybe ‘cause she didn’t want to look like a party pooper so the night wasn’t a repeat of the Seamista pool party, but that minimal action was about how far Catra was willing to go, since on top of making appearance she was expected to volunteer her time and help set up. When Catra got to the bakery an hour to do just that- Bow had stuck an industrial sized bag of shredded colorful paper in her arms and told her to “Go nuts!”- and the world’s worst Justice League would not stop staring at the MegaMart cat ears Catra stuck on top of her curls, she realized the whole damn thing was a trap.

_ “What?” _ Catra had growled at Perfuma/kid friendly Poison Ivy, as she dosed another table with a chunk of black and orange confetti. Being around Adora’s friends was no longer the equivalent of eating glass, but sue her for being pouty when she had _ thought _that showing up early to help meant at least getting the reward of seeing her girlfriend. Adora was nowhere to be found because Glimmer had sent her off last minute for another fog machine. 

_ “I like your cat ears.” _ Perfuma had offered a weak smile in her direction before retreating back to where her date was awing herself with the black light. _ “I thought you said she wasn’t going to dress up, Scorpia.” _

_ “I thought you weren’t going to do the group costume, Catra!” _ Entrapta had appeared out of freaking nowhere and almost knocked Catra in the head- _ again _ \- with her giant ass carnival gavel she was dragging around as part of her _ Birds of Prey _ Harley Quinn costume, the one she’d been stitching together since the first trailer for the movie dropped. Along with the gavel prop that was gonna end in serious head trauma for Catra, ‘Trapta had managed to shove her all five feet of purple hair into a wig cap _ and _ wig, and had spent the party parading around in velvet pink bra, open gold jumpsuit, and fucking roller skates. She’d run over Catra’s toes _ five fucking times _before the party had even started. How was a movie that wasn’t it supposed to hit theatres until February already causing Catra pain?

Ducking her head just in time, Catra had hissed back, “_ I’m not.” _

_ “Oh, you’re not supposed Selina Kyle à la Gotham?” _ Sea Hawk had dared to ask her, standing there in a full sea green jumpsuit and waist-length wig of wavy red hair because for some reason that made Catra wish she could give herself a lobotomy, he was Queen Mera and _ Mermista _was Jason Momoa’s Aquaman. Catra’s entire back had snapped up, repulsion snatching her in the spine, at her birth mother’s name. 

_ “Who the _ fuck _ is that?” _

_ “She’s Catwoman!” _ Scorpia told her before Catra could beat the answer out of the engineer. Catra had eyed her up and down, taking in the sight of her in a CW Batwoman costume, a not for once that ridiculous femme cop outfit she used to _ every _ year without fail when she was still working assitant manager at MegaMart. _ “Oh my Gosh, that’s amazing. Did you do this on purpose, Catra? I bet you did this on purpose. Hey Wildflower, Wild Cat looks like Catwoman!” _

Confetti oozing out of her fist, Catra’s eye had started twitching. _ “Son of a bitch.” _

On Adora’s nightstand, back in this bitch of a reality, one of the Polaroids that survived Catra’s mini freak out just had to be of everyone in the group in their group costumes. Catra had bitched twice as hard about being in that photo because her costume ending up part of the theme was a total _ accident, _ but Adora had just laughed and told her that no matter what she had worn she was gonna be a part of the picture. That’s how the current version of Catra ended up staring at that past version of her, squished up between Adora and Netossa, on the steps of the bakery and an unfamiliar kind of squeamish began to bubble in her stomach. Clutching her shirt, Catra ran her eyes of the photograph, the faces of the people she might _ actually _ call her friends ( _ if _ she was about to die _ and _ no one was around to hear it) trying to decipher why looking at all of them posing on the steps of the bakery made her feel so goddamn _ weird _.

Stiletto nails scratched gloss as she flipped to the next Polaroid. Glimmer and Bow standing back to back as Katana (whoever the fuck that was, Catra didn’t bother to ask) and Green Arrow. The next, Frosta dressed Starfire doing the Limbo. Sea Hawk DJing. A bunch of baby gay teens _ also _in Harley Quinn costumes, posing with Entrapta; Catra remembered they thought she was a god- fair judgement- and spent the whole night following her like starstruck puppies. Scorpia, Perfuma and Mermista handing out awards at the end of the costume contest. Sea Hawk getting his wig caught in one of his turntables and Glimmer trying to pull him out by the head to free it because the station was a rental (who got a picture of that and would Adora care if Catra kept this one?). Snorting, Catra slid the photo off the top of the stack and went to the next one, a rare shot of herself mingling in the crowd and smirking up at the camera with arms crossed. Catra’s front to look miserable failed her in this lit for shit Polaroid. 

_ Who the hell took this picture? _

Catra wanted to say Adora took this one. But with the Bright Moon gang it was anyone’s guess. The Polaroid camera was that party’s version of a silver flask; passed from hand to shaky hand until it ran dry of its purpose and everyone got bored of it. It’s not like she cared enough to remember most of the night, but Catra could say she remembered Adora having it near the end of the night, or else she’d made up the memory of Adora ambushing her with way too much enthusiasm for 10:30 at night, “_Hey Catra,_ _say cheese!” _Besides, whoever had taken this photo had zero sense of dimensional space and how to frame objects, ‘cause Catra and her plastic cat ears were covering almost a third of the photograph- and she was borderline blurry- leaving Spinerella and Netossa half shadowed. 

For two people Catra had only drawn, over and over and over and over and over again until the publishers’ parasitic need for perfection was finally satisfied, and never had a real conversation with, Netossa and her wife were only in the picture with Catra because they were the only people she could stomach spending most of the night talking to. Mostly Netossa. Spinerella’s other half was the more claustrophobic of the two and was perfectly fine letting her wife socialize while she had just stood in the corner drinking a sparkling apple cider, clutching a handful of pamphlets for _ The Trevor Project. _

_ “Let me guess, you’re Adora’s girlfriend?” _Netossa had asked, eyeing her up and down, as Catra leaned back against the glass and massaged her temples.

_ “Why do you ask?” _ Catra had grumbled, _ “‘cause I look mean? And scary?” _

_ “‘Cause you’ve been staring at her all night.” _

Eyes widening, Catra had turned to stare at the other woman (and had almost been thrown from offense by the shock seeing her costume: green and red had puked all over her, from the pointed green hat complete with bell, to red felt dress, striped tights and were those fucking _ clogs _she was wearing? Jesus, how could someone so badly confuse the holidays like this, or was Netossa just, making a statement?) wondering if she should’ve just come dressed as a fucking window since apparently emboldenned strangers could right through her. 

Netossa had just laughed at Catra and her panicked expression like she’d just found Catra’s baggage under the tree on Christmas morning. “_ Yeah, you got it pretty bad. But you don’t have to look like that’s the worst thing in the world, you know?” _

_ “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” _ Catra had lied through her gritted teeth, folding her arms and digging her newly manicured nails into her jacket. God, she should’ve picked another corner than stand here just to be psychoanalyzed by a Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer character knockoff. Catra _ would’ve _ picked another corner, but every other one was not only crowded with brace-faces not wearing enough deodorant rambling on about podcasts, but on top of that, all those corners made for sucktastic vantage points when it came to keeping an eye on the register- damn it, was the total stranger dressed as a Christmas mall elf _ right? _

_ “You don’t look like you’re having a good time,” _Netossa had clicked her tongue.

“_ S’fine.” _ And that part _ wasn’t _ a lie. Well, not as much as the first thing Catra had said to Jingle Jangle over there. Dodging in and out of bunch of moron minors trying to pick their pierced jaws up the floor whenever she walked passed and trying to block out Sea Hawk’s “Spooktastic” playlist weren’t the nightmare they sounded like on paper when Catra got a free dinner out of it- courtesy of Netossa and Spinerella’s catering business, how was that for fucking irony?- and got to spend the entire party watching her girlfriend be everyone’s freaking hero, _ literally, _smiling and laughing and more patient than Catra could ever hope to be talking up their book to the kids floating around the register. Adora tripped over that dumb cape everytime, but she took a picture with like every partygoer who asked her to.

_ “But not what you picture when you think about spending time with your girlfriend?” _Netossa had pushed (her luck mostly) and asked.

_ “God, no.” _

_ “I get that.” _ Taking a sip of her cider, her bell had jingled when she said, _ “When Spinny and I were dating, I sulked in my fair share of corners. It’s actually how I used to get her to spend time with me, since she knows how much I hate being alone.” _

_ “And what exactly are you doing now?” _Catra had rolled her head just to send Netossa a pointed look.

Netossa pursed her lips. _ “That’s fair. But also, I’m technically working at this thing.” _ Catra’s look had continued as she slumped her shoulders and pushed her cat ears further back into her hair. _ “My point is-” _

_ “Ugh, finally.” _

_ “That being this guarded is a waste of time and I would know, because I’ve been where you are right now. Like literally, where you are standing _ right _ now. How do you think I feel? It’s like I’m looking in a mirror and it’s not fun.” _

_ “Jesus, that’s bullshit. How do you think _ I _ feel that everyone thinks they know me after talking to me for two fucking seconds? How do you think I feel, getting advice I didn’t even ask for from some Hallmark movie sidekick? God!” _Lashing out Netossa had been as easy as breathing and there was no thinking on Catra’s part when she had just thrown out the words.

_ “Yep. A mirror.” _ Netossa had just nodded, _ “I’m just gonna go ahead and save you some of the pain that being so guarded caused me, because that’s what a Hallmark movie character would do anyways, and give you some advice: you have the real thing, right in front of you, if you want it. Don’t give into that part of you that wants to be a pussy and sulk in corners. ‘Cause watching you and Adora stare at each other when you’re not looking is giving me war flashbacks.” _

_ “Are you fucking kidding me-” _

Except Netossa didn’t give Catra the oxygen for that raging fire she ignited with her stupid, unsolicited comments, choosing instead to ask her “_ Hey so, do you know when this thing is gonna be over?” _

_ “What?” _ Catra’s response had been to stand there gaping like an offended and confused _ as fuck _fish. Oh so now the Christmas Freud was gonna ask her for a favor? Bitch.

_ “My feet hurt in these shoes. How did Danish people even wear these things? Yeah, but I have no idea when this is gonna be over and Bow didn’t tell.” _ Netossa shook her head, pursing her lips. _ “Bow never tells me anything and just expects me to know. Jerk.” _

_ “He _ is _ a jerk, oh my God. You- you get it!” _

That marked the first time in a solid decade and a half (with one exception, but that exception almost got her fucking _ killed _ , so she sure wasn’t counting it) that Catra let someone call her out on her bullshit and not walk away with a clump of hair ripped out of their head. Maybe it was because Netossa hadn’t seemed to give a flying fuck to what the consequences of being _ that _ candid were. Maybe it was somewhere between her and Adora’s first date and that party that Catra just gone soft, and everyone, including total fucking strangers, could tell and being from Bright Moon, just let their mouths water at the invitation to read her for filth. 

Standing there in Adora’s room, staring at the Polaroid, another shiver ran up her back and kissed her neck. The sensation was a cruel reminder of that weakness growing within her that even the freezing fucking cold couldn’t slow down. Netossa got away with what she had dared to say to Catra’s face, that much Catra remembered. She also remembered letting the whole _ “you’ve got the real thing right in front of you” _ conversation slide in favor of bashing Bow for the last leg of the party, right up until Spinerella found the two of them and her wife’s eye had lit up like the Christmas tree Spinerella was dressed as. The thought _ ‘that’s what _ I _ look like when I see Adora?! I look like a huge dork!’ _ that squealed in her head as Catra had watched the two of them interact was somehow clear as day still. Well, not this _ exact _day; stupid fucking snow storm. And none of those thoughts, memories, or useless emotions helped Catra remember how the camera ended up in her face after that.

_ The whole thing is tinted gray and there are weird spots of light over Spinerella’s face- yeah, Adora took this picture. _Catra nodded with a sigh. For the most promising young adult author in the northeast, Adora sucked at photography, and at having an eye for artistic or spatial detail in general. What a total dork. No wonder Adora made Catra feel confident in her specialized talent and intelligence and about being a better person and how she had a place in this world as a human being who was actually valued.

_ “Aren’t you supposed to be working, babe?” _ Catra had snorted and pushed the camera away from her face after she heard the _ snap! _ of the camera. Out of the corner of her eye, she had caught Spinerella and Netossa- traitors- exchanging a loaded look, _ “You don’t want Glimmer slicing you in half with that stupid Samurai sword.” _

_ “Yeah ok, it’s not real, Catra. If it was real, I think Sea Hawk would’ve been dead by now,” _laughed Adora as she shook the printed picture back and forth. 

_ “Hmm.” _

_ “I’m off now, by the way. Bow took over the register, so I’m free to mingle! Oh, hi Spinerella, hi Netossa- are you guys.... Christmas elves?” _ Catra’s girlfriend had turned to the caterers, taking Catra’s hand and interweaving her fingers. In that moment, the heat of the stares from one thousand zitty teenagers, half waddling around in Voltron cosplays ( _ “Oh it’s a graphic novel that was really big for a while despite being really controversial, but I never got around to reading it. They’re by the same company that’s gonna publish She Ra!) _had been almost enough to call for another skin graft for Catra and the snarl she sent in the direction of their nosy asses went over Adora’s head.

Netossa had shook her head in amusement, the bell on top of her felted hat tinkling as she nodded in response and her wife answered, “_ Netossa is an elf, I’m actually a Christmas tree _.”

_ “Uh,” _ Adora looked back at Catra before forcing a smile, _ “That’s nice, I guess? You guys are- are really rocking this couple’s costume thing-” _

_ “Bow didn’t tell us there was a group theme.” _

_ “Oh.” _

_ “I would’ve made the _ best _ Batman, okay?” _

_ “You would’ve, darling. The _ best _ Batman. Her costume is amazing, she put so much work into it and quite a lot of money into it too, darling.” _

Catra had bumped Adora in the shoulder, snorting under her breath and racing against time to disguise it as a cough once she caught the way Netossa was smirking at her. For God’s sake! Netossa was the one wearing wood on her feet but _ Catra _ was the lame one? The whole fucking world was upside down. “ _ So, we’re gonna take off,” _Catra had told the other couple without breaking Netossa’s eye contact. 

_ “Wait,” _ Adora had stuttered, _ “we are? I mean I brought you a cinnamon roll but I thought you’d want to eat in here-” _

_ “But it was nice talking to you! Buh-bye, let’s go Adora. Ple-ease.” _ Figuring she could explain why she had pushed her girlfriend straight out the door, Catra had grabbed Adora by the shoulders and turned her head away from what was looking to be her extremely lame future- just not in time to miss Netossa mouthing _ “The real thing, babe.” _

Catra ended up tripping Adora on their way out and the two of them had to eat/feed/throw pieces at each other pieces of a cinnamon roll that had made contact with the actual sidewalk and _ that _was on Netossa’s little last minute comment. It’s not like Catra and Adora hadn’t had worse Halloweens together. Cinnamon roll finished, Catra spent the rest of the night happy to be nuzzled in Adora’s shoulder as they sat out there on the curb, talking shit about nothing she could remember, until the group photo pulled them apart again. 

“Oh God,” Catra swallowed the bile in her mouth. That backdraft feeling that ravaged her nervous system earlier in her apartment was back with a vengeance for a reason she couldn’t put a finger on, and the Polaroid fell from her shaking hand. Why did Adora have these out? Why would she put _ this _ version of Catra- this exposed, _ idiotic _ version- on display? And why didn’t Catra recognize this person, this version, that wore her face in these photographs?

_ Get a fucking grip, Jaregui! This is not the time to have a goddamn meltdown ‘cause your no longer Hordak’s little girl and Weaver could little appear in any dark corner and come for your neck- wait, what the hell am I supposed to be doing? Why am I even in here? _

A faint moan coming from the kitchen hit her ears and Catra’s back snapped up. “Fuck! Tylenol- I’m supposed to be getting Tylenol for Adora, fuck- shit- get it _ together, _Catra! Focus!”

Cursing in a tone that would make the ghost of her dead mother whack her upside the head, Catra practically ripped open the top drawer of Adora’s night stand. _ Where the hell did she say it was again? Why can’t you remember anything today, you goddamn moron! You can’t stop thinking about yourself for five fucking minutes and now Adora is probably gonna be in a coma for the next six months because of the dumbassery you’re pulling right now. _ Somewhere behind the wall of thoughts fueled by self hatred ( _ so _ useful right now, not pointless or ineffective _ at _ all! Thanks, deep running personality problems!) Catra was only half aware of all the crap she was rummaging through. A never-ending pile of hair ties, chewed up pen caps, a bottle of gummy vitamins, there had to be at least two or three paperback books; none of Adora’s junk was leading Catra any closer to the Tylenol she was _ told _ should be in here.

Shoving her hand in deeper, her nails collided with wood at the bottom and Catra recoiled with a hiss, not before hearing the telltale sounds of pills rattling around under her knuckles. “Fucking finally.” Her fingers wrapped around the bottle_ \- why’s it so small _ \- to pull it free, but any victory there was riding on the sight of this medicine was cut short when Catra caught the color of her prize. This wasn’t Tylenol. Catra wasn’t a pharmaceuticals rep, but she was smart enough to know the bottle of OTC painkiller didn’t come in _ prescription orange. _

“Oh Adora.” Catra let a sigh slip through her irritation as she rotated the bottle in her hand. Full to the brim with white little pills and gathering dust on the secured cap, Catra read the label and shook her head. Alprazolam, more commonly known as Xanax. Just another benzodiazepine Hordak had her memorize before throwing her into the frontline of his operation. The 0.25mg dosage was prescribed for once a day and as needed. The date prescribed was not even from a full year ago.

Okay, so her girlfriend had a bottle of secret pills hidden back in a drawer and for once, _ wasn’t _ taking them. That much was pretty fucking obvious. Catra’s next sigh turned into a growl as she tightened her grip to keep herself from punching her forehead with the bottle. Where was Catra supposed to go from here? Could it be anywhere that didn’t lead her to the heavy and awkward conversation they were going to have to have about why on Earth Adora wasn’t listening to her _ doctor _ and taking these meds? Great! Catra could just add that to the list of girlfriend duties she wasn’t cut out for. Add it to the expanding list of sentiments she didn’t know how the hell to express! Add to all the ways she was growing so completely, so exhaustively soft.

Here Catra was, sacrificing good R&R time as well as her own sanity to care for Adora because she _ knew _she could do it and do it really fucking well if her girlfriend just let her, and yet in her hand was the proof that Adora wasn’t even willing to take care of herself. 

Catra was trapped. Trapped because she couldn’t let Adora get away with stuffing this orange little bottle in the back of a drawer with the hopes to forget about when it could be helping her. Trapped because Catra knew she’d be a hypocrite to go after her girlfriend’s self care. Adora was suffering, and no matter how much Catra avoided it, when Adora hurt, Catra hurt, too. And now Adora was making herself hurt for no good reason.

_ Well then hurry up and find the _ actual _ meds she needed so she’ll live to have this conversation! _

Catra put the bottle of pills on the top of the nightstand, smack down in the center of the Polaroids.

For the third time, Catra went back into the drawer that there wasn’t much left to explore. She shifted the hair ties, the notecards, the books all over again with shrinking faith the painkillers were even in here. Ugh! Why didn’t anything ever work out for her? The stupid pills probably weren’t even in Adora’s room to begin with! It’s not like Catra’s girlfriend had any actual reason to keep ‘em so close. _ But I know Adora keeps something around for _ me _ and this is the side of the bed I sleep on, so the only place they could be if she was keeping stuff around for me is here- hey, what’s this? _

Maybe it was that she wasn’t used to acting under the pressure of panic (Catra knew more than ever what she had to lose if she fucked up, not to mention the mounting evidence that she and Adora were straight up infecting each other with their unique problems.) Maybe it was because the below freezing temperature was the only thing keeping Catra awake. But Adora’s nightstand- how had that typical kill-the-cat-curiosity never made her go through it before?- was turning out to be a treasure trove of secrets, pulling her in like she was a little kid chasing rabbits down holes (or for her, stray cats down back alleys). Adora...Adora had been keeping secrets. And Catra let herself get distracted by them, _ again. _

It was just a folded up piece of paper. That was all Catra found, all that she was holding in the palm of her hand, letting it warm her whole system as it burned a hole in her hand. She could’ve put it down. She _ should’ve _put it down if she had any real interest in being the girlfriend Adora deserved. But Catra had hid enough shit in her day to know this wasn’t the nothing it looked like. Her gut rumbled in quiet anticipation and that curiosity, so much for driving that out of her, because this paper looked like it was from, “Adora’s old notebook.” 

_ Holy shit. _ A shit eating grin came over Catra’s expression, that untouchable sense of chaos that came with the sight of the college lined paper sucking her back into another memory, that same feeling she let win her over when she opened the notebook that clumsy, hammered, _ hot _ mess version of Adora left in her passenger seat on their third Uber ride. Without trespassing in Adora’s privacy like that that night, making her first step _ away _ from alcoholism, there was no freaking way Catra would be Adora’s partner and illustrator. There was no way Adora would be her girlfriend if Catra hadn’t gone behind her back and let herself into the world of She Ra. _ Are these the pages she _ tore _ out? _

Beyond the outline for an angsty lesbian take _ Sword in the Stone _ filled with magical princesses and the space-facist version of her old caretaker, one really weird detail that had stood out to Catra was that at a certain part in the notebook, there were pages missing. The rest of the notebook? Fucking immaculate. Every page was filled with a mess of Adora’s thoughts, the beginning of her ideas, dialogue, plot and character points; there were no real _ empty _pages. Just missing ones, the secret given away by that rip down the middle.

Catra wanted to believe that first time around that her name might’ve been on those pages. That at some point there’d been tangible proof Adora had actually thought about her in the thirteen years they spent apart, that Catra was a part of Adora’s life worth thinking about. And it wasn’t like the answer Adora gave Catra when she had brought it up wasn’t valid: with no way of contacting Catra, Adora had no way of getting her permission to make her a She Ra standard. Maybe it was better for their relationship to write Catra’s character on different terms. Definitely gave them something to talk about during those Uber rides. But as many times as Adora let Catra look back through the notebook for reference, Catra hadn’t ever given those missing pages a second thought.

_ Uh, why would Adora shove them in the back of the drawer where she keeps her shame meds? Is she ashamed of this? Why didn’t she just burn it? That’s what I would do. _

And because at the end of the day, Catra and Adora dealt with shame in _ very _ different ways, Catra just _ had _ to know what was on this piece of paper. She could be ashamed of her actions later. Peeling it open with her nails, Catra ran her split eyes down the paper for that juicy little secret that Adora was _ so _ keen on hiding.

The title, whatever it was, had been run over and over and over by black pen ink. _ Jesus, Adora. Way to bury the lead. _ The first few lines were scratched out too. Whatever had driven Adora to start this page, some other feeling of equal force kept her from actually keeping anything she wrote down. Also, had Adora never heard of a fucking eraser? Why did that woman _ insist _on writing in pen? This was giving Catra the creeps, like it was some bad omen straight out of a horror movie and if she looked up those white walls would be bleeding her name.

Most of the page was just blank and that was fucking unnerving for a number of reasons. Catra, unsatisfied with this dead end, lifted the page up from it’s twin and held it up to the lights in Adora’s ceiling, hoping to read the words she hadn’t almost torn a whole in the page trying to scratch away. “_ Grayskull?” And she’d scratch that out to hide it because? “Pet tiger”- oh like the _ Magi _ cats weren’t bad enough, babe. Something, something “sword,” something something “Eternia,” that’s super helpful. _Grumbling in defeat, Catra decided to move onto the next page. She found one word, all caps. A name. 

And it fucking _ threw _her.

“Who the fuck is Adam?”

Didn’t matter that there weren’t any other words or clues or maybe even a shitty little stick figure to help piece together why Adora hadn’t written this random ass name in her She Ra journal, tore the entire page out and stuffed it where the sun don’t shine, ‘cause a sharp cry from the kitchen that started just to stop forced Catra’s hand back into action. “Adora!”

Catra didn’t bother to close the drawer, refolding the pages with a practiced hand and shoving them in her pocket before taking a running start for the door. _ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! It fucking happened again! Curiosity killed the cat, more like it killed Adora! I can’t believe you let yourself get distracted a _ third _ damn time, Jaregui. God, Adora deserves better than you! _

“Hey, hey, hey,” Catra began the second she sat on the floor by Adora’s side, wrapping a gloved hand over her cheek, the heat from her fever seeping through the leather. _ Damn it, she got worse! _ Adora was biting down full force on her tongue with a twisted and pained expression. Her eyes were clamped shut, head thrown against the cabinet door, fingers clenched in her shirt just below her shirt. Catra’s heart lurched. “Adora, Adora, stay with me, ok? Talk to me, _ please? _Look, I didn’t find any Tylenol in your room, but- but something tells me this isn’t cramps, is it?”

A tiny hiss of air escaped Adora’s lips and turned into a whimper. _ Fuck, she is _ not _ okay! _“Nope.” She forced a nod.

This whole damn time Catra had been waiting for the all clear to act. Without Adora’s consent to take over and take control, she’d been left to wait around in uncertainty and holy fucking crap, was she bad at that (was this Adora's whole life, existing in the waiting? How the hell was she even alive?). But this had to be it, right? This _ had _to be the sign Adora trusted Catra to do the right thing. Whatever, Catra had never seen Adora in this much pain before and it was gonna kill her before it killed Adora, so no more fucking around. “Where does it hurt, babe?”

“Stomach,” wheezed Adora.

That explained why she was gripping her shirt with white knuckles.

“Well did you throw up?” 

Adora shook her head and Catra blew out hot air, racking her brain for other possible options. God, she’d _ kill _ to have Entrapta just pop out of nowhere like she was always conveniently doing and tell her what the hell Catra was supposed to do here.

“What- what about food poisoning? Did you eat something, are you like shitting yourself-” Catra kept going, Adora kept shaking her head, “fuck! Is it just your stomach?”

“Kinda lower, too. Like my belly button, and- and my side.” Adora managed to mutter before groaning again. 

Realization set into Catra with a deeper cold that the dumb Bright Moon winter could ever deliver. Hand traveling to cover Adora’s, she asked in a low voice, “Right or left side, babe?”

“R-right.” Adora opened her eyes.

_ God damn it. _

“So I’m guessing you’ve never had your appendix out, have you dummy?”

Those ocean blue eyes widened in a panic and Adora began shaking her head as if this was a worse diagnosis Catra could’ve given her than actual death. “Uh-uh, I- I can’t have my appendix out, Catra- I can’t go to the hospital-”

“Adora!” Catra forced her back into the cabinet, breathing hard, “It’s gonna be okay, Jesus! You can’t- you can’t get yourself overworked, your appendix might burst.”

That turned out to be the wrong fucking thing to say.

“_ Burst?” _ grabbing Catra by the collar of her leather jacket and yanking her down, Adora half screamed, “No, _ no, _ I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m going to be _ fine _ ! This- this is just some random body pain, or- or gas! There’s no reason to go to the hospital, no reason to go to the hospital. _ Please _ don’t take me to the hospital.”

_ Oh God. _ Catra dropped her chin to her chest, forced her eyes shut, anything to escape the way Adora was looking at her in that begging, _ pleading _way that used to get them in a world of trouble- and then Catra in a world of pain- when they were kids. ‘Cause that was a lifetime and half ago and they weren’t those naive little kids anymore. Back then it had been Adora stepping in front of Catra before some wannabe racist kid in their class tried to pull her hair, but in that lifetime of abuse, grief, and never ending loneliness, the coin had flipped, their roles had switched.

“Adora, you know what’s gonna happen if we go to the hospital?” Catra did her best to keep that edge out of her voice as she tipped Adora’s chin up with her finger.

Adora broke their eye contact and shook her head.

“They’re gonna take you back to some exam room, run a couple tests and you’ll probably have to have surgery, okay? Then they’ll let you go home. That’s _ it. _ There’s not gonna be any dudes in white coats telling you you’re dying. I _ promise _ . Do you _ hear _ me?” Now the edge was back.

Swallowing, Adora let go of Catra’s jacket. “You can’t promise that, Catra.”

“No, I _ can, _ ” retorted Catra, grabbing Adora's wrist back before she could pull it away completely, “You wanna know how I can promise something like that? ‘Cause this exact thing happened to Entrapta like, five weeks before I got fired from MegaMart.” And she wasn’t fibbing to trick Adora, Entrapta had actually had her appendix out almost the same time last year; Catra had gotten stuck bagging groceries with her on register and Entrapta literally walked out of an out of an eight shift hour- and on her- saying she needed her appendix removed or it was going to burst, and then Scorpia roped her into playing nurse for the next two weeks even though Entrapta bounced back faster than that time she rolled her ankle doing inventory and instead of taking workers-comp, just drank four Red Bulls and downed a bunch of Fun Dip powder. “And guess what babe? She was _ fine. _If nothing, you’ll get a cool scar.”

“I just don’t want to go to the hospital,” Adora tried one last time. 

“Yeah, duh! I know you don’t. Nobody does! But _ I _ don’t want to lose you to something this stupid,” _ and not when I could’ve just done something, _“and I always get what I want, Adora.” Placing a gentle- yet really out of character, what was Adora turning her into?- kiss on her girlfriend’s forehead, Catra dropped her hand and came around to Adora’s left side, forcing her arm under Adora’s. 

“You don’t understand, Catra, I _ can’t _ go to the hospital,” Adora both moaned and protested as Catra almost threw her back out trying to pick her up off the floor ( _ that’s it Adora. You’re hot enough, no more going to the gym for you, I don’t care if it “helps your anxiety.”) _Huffing, Catra made sure Adora’s arm was secure over her shoulders before pushing them forward. “I don’t have any health insurance.”

_ Of _ course _ you fucking don’t. _

Rolling her eyes, Catra couldn’t resist whacking her pony tail right as they got to the top of the stairs. “_ That _ sounds like a problem for _ future _ Catra and Adora, babe." 

_ Entrapta owes me a favor anyway for letting Emily eat all my toothpaste. Or maybe one of Adora's friends will pick up the bill this time! Fuckers definitely owe us one. _

_

The snow had buried the car. 

As if dragging dead-weight Adora down the stairs without tripping over her feet, Catra’s own feet or the actual steps, and then towing her girlfriend through the foyer to the door wasn’t hard enough to have Catra rethinking all of Adora’s offers to go workout together, all that time Catra wasted after she found Adora had turned Marshmallow’s car into a Toyota snow fortress. 

Great! Adora’s appendix was on the fritz, the car was under a solid two feet of fucking flurry, and now the clock was ticking a whole lot faster than before.

“So,” Catra grunted as she tried to keep her balance, one hand on the rim of the staircase and the other gripping into the gaps of Adora’s ribcage so neither of them wouldn’t fall face first, “can I ask when you started feeling this way or are you gonna keep brushing me off?”

“Uh, two days ago,” Adora muttered in response.

“Two days? Two days? Are kidding me, Adora?! Do you know how dangerous that is? Why didn’t you say anything? Do you, I dunno- have a fucking death wish?” Yeah. Catra had this nurturing shit mastered and it was totally showing.

Barefoot almost slipping on the next step, Adora’s hand dug deeper into Catra’s shoulder, going straight for the nerve point as she caught herself. “It’s because- I didn’t- I didn’t think the pain was a big deal.” 

“Okay,” Catra sighed, “and when your fever started, you didn’t think that was a big deal?”

“I… I didn’t want to bother anybody.”

It would’ve been so damn easy for Catra just to toss Adora down the stairs then throw herself after. Wouldn’t solve all their problems, but maybe, just _ maybe, _ it would knock some sense into Adora.

“Bow and Glimmer were so excited about going to Casta’s, it was literally all they could talk about, and you took the weekend off-” Adora’s usual excuses came to a skidding halt when Catra rolled her eyes, her sigh echoing off every surface on the first floor.

“Who cares about everyone else, Adora? You don’t deserve to be in this much fucking pain just so everyone else is happy, including me.” They made it to the bottom step and Catra, knowing she couldn’t just drag her girlfriend into the snow without any shoes, started searching the entrance way for something quick she could force Adora to put on.

Adora’s ocean eyes caught her split ones before Catra managed to find anything. Somehow, they cut through the dark like they were their own sources of light. “Catra, I didn’t say anything ‘cause thought it would, I dunno,” she sucked in a breath before continuing, “inconvenience you?”

“You really think I’d be hauling your ass down the stairs and to the hospital if you were that big of an inconvenience to me?” In Catra’s mind, that was the most natural answer to Adora’s dumbass comment. Because how could Adora think Catra’s comfort mattered more to her than her _girlfriend’s_ pain? How could everyone in this fucking city, in the whole world, see Catra and instantly know she would go to the ends of the earth for Adora, but _Adora _couldn’t see through her? Typical. 

But even as the words hung in the air between them, Catra had a moment of pure fucking panic that maybe it gave _ too _much away, let Adora see a little bit more than intended behind her mask.

“...Catra-”

“We need to hurry, Adora.” Catra cut her off before Adora could say something stupid, something they would both regret, “If you’ve been in pain this long, then we’re pushing our luck standing around like this.”

At least being a bitch for half a second got Adora shut up. Her eyes may have closed and she may have started doing that cute frustrated little pout face, but Catra just told herself they could talk about… whatever that moment had been leading to _after_ they’d weathered this convenient medical emergency. Didn’t stop the awkwardness from sticking around as Catra found a pair of purple flip flops by the door (“I’m guessing these are Sparkles’ shoes?” “Yeah, she- she wears them around the apartment.” “Cool, babe. Now you’re gonna wear them to the hospital.”) and shoved them in Adora’s hands, knowing they were probably three sizes too small, then laid her down to rest on the floor. 

“I’m gonna go start the car.” Catra figured it’d be easier to get that hunk of crap fired up before trying to get Adora in the passenger seat. “Try not to die-”

“Before you get back? I’ll try, babe.” Of course Adora had to be a complete tease and hand Catra her own words back to her while one of her organs was hours away from exploding. Of course. Flirting with her girlfriend while she was being dragged against her will to the place of some of her worst fears- ugh, who did Adora even think she was?

Lucky is what she thought she was. ‘Cause when Catra swung the door of the apartment open, she saw that the Bright Moon blizzard had set out to make their day that much worse by burying their ride. And now because _ that _ had been added to the list of shit Catra had to take care of before they could scurry off to surgery, Adora got an extra half an hour to avoid the operation room.

"Son of a _ bitch _!” Catra yelled out into the freezing cold, stiletto nails flying into her hair. 

_ First, I have to go on this dumb fucking trip when I could’ve just _ stayed _ in bed, second, Adora has appendicitis of all things- and she’s had it for almost three fucking days!- and now to make sure she doesn’t die I have to dig the car out of this pile of snow! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck Marshmallow, fuck this stupid city and it’s stupid god damn snow storms! _

Letting out a growl, Catra didn’t even think. (It wasn’t like she was any good at that anyway). She jumped all three stairs, sending snow everywhere over the sidewalk including _ into _her very-much-not winter boots, and headed straight for the pile of snow that used to be the car and started to work. Against the sharp wind that was about to blow her away, against the snow flying right into her face, relying on whatever emotion came after stubbornness to take armful by armful of snow off the car, trying not to focus on how much there was melting down her tank top and into her bra.

_ Scorpia wins after this. _ Catra shivered as she shook off her jacket for the fifth time before going back to the hood, stomach soaked and fingers numb. _ She wins and she gets to take me shopping and I’ll buy whatever winter coat she thinks is best ‘cause I think my tits are officially frozen. _

She figured clearing the driver’s half of the hood would be enough considering that was the part she had to look over; half assing this probably wasn’t the end of the world when time wasn’t on their side, and whatever being from Arizona didn’t prepare her for, spending the majority of nine fucking months in front of a steering wheel was going to have to make up for it. Catra guessed that the next step was getting the windshield taken care of. Opening the door- thank fucking God it wasn’t frozen shut- Catra prayed that Marshmallow wasn’t cheap enough to let the defroster go neglected. When the button lit up, she deflated in relief, her arms and back shaking. ‘Cause Catra was pretty certain it’d been a good twenty to forty five minutes since she laid Adora down on the tile floor in a room with no heat and then just left her there. 

“Let’s get this fucking thing taken care of,” she said to herself as she backed out of the car and pulled out her wallet.

_ Hopefully she isn’t in some appendicitis-coma. Like that’s even a thing. Ugh, it wouldn’t be a thing at all if Adora just told me something was wrong with her! I could’ve helped and then I wouldn’t be using a Target giftcard to scrape off my windshield in 10 degree weather! And what was with her on the staircase? She was making _ that _ face again, as if we don’t already have enough crap to deal with. _The card met the glass with more friction as it slid across the surface, and Catra half grumbled half shivered, lost in the mess of her own thoughts. 

That moment back in the dark of her apartment wasn’t the first time in the last couple of months Adora looked at Catra with an expression Catra sure as hell didn’t recognize. The two of them would be working together in silence and Catra would look up to see that Adora had been staring at her, eyes lost in translation, or they’d be lying in bed together talking and Adora’s hand would find their way into the coils of Catra’s hair, and that strange look would be on her face as she curled them around her finger. Familiar or not, Catra definitely didn’t _ like _ it. She was never sure if it meant Adora was about to tell her something- something along the lines of “hey, this has been fun and I promised I would try not to hurt you, but I think we should see other people,”- or if she was about to puke, and then just never, ever stop puking. 

And now Catra, by way of rooting through Adora’s stuff and violating her girlfriend’s privacy, was just that much more aware that Adora was full of dirty little secrets. Secrets she had managed to keep _ successfully, _for maybe as long as they had been a couple. Or longer. Catra didn’t know how to feel about any of it except uneasy as shit. What was Adora trying to say that made her so scared she couldn’t say it?

And at what point in their time dating was Adora gonna let that dirty little secret break them? 

“Fucking finally.” Panting, Catra peeled her body off the car. Her thought spiral was gonna have to go on the backburner now that she’d cleared- well mostly cleared- the windshield. The glass looked like a child had taken the back of a spatula to it and spared no mercy, or thought, to the pattern of travel. About forty percent of it was still frost and the storm was covering up the clear sixty percent fucking fast. Whatever, it was good enough. The car would get them to the hospital so it’s not like it had to be fucking spotless, the wipers were just gonna have to put in over time.

_ Good thing Bright Moon gives a shit to plow their roads, or I’d be taking us both down. _

Catra’s back pocket buzzed right as she came back to the front door. Wiping the fresh layer of snowflakes off her brow, she hissed over the line without looking at the number, “What?”

“Huh? Hello? Catra, is that you?” The irritating sound of Glimmer’s voice traveled through the phone line and Catra almost tore the door handle off. “What’s going on? Are you and Adora on your way up?” 

“No.” Catra pushed the door open using her shoulder to find Adora lying on the floor where she had left her, back in that soul crushing fetal position from earlier.

“You’re back,” Adora muttered, a half smile on her face. Unable to resist returning the grin, Catra stuck her tongue out at her girlfriend, returning to her side. 

“What, why?” demanded Glimmer.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Catra answered.Rolling her eyes as she kneeled down, Catra gestured for Adora to put her arm over her shoulder like before. “Shit happens I guess.”

The weight of Adora’s whole body came over Catra’s, and for different reasons they both bit back a groan. Fuck, was Catra going to be sore after this. “Who are you t-talking to?”

“Glimmer,” Catra mouthed in response, rolling her eyes again. Together they started for the door and Glimmer started for Catra’s throat.

“What _ shit _ ? You can’t just _ say _ stuff like that, Catra! No, Bow, I don’t know where they are, she didn’t say. No, I don’t know why Adora’s not answering her phone, I was getting there.” It took all of Catra’s willpower to focus on getting her girlfriend down a second flight of stairs instead of screaming over this stupid conversation. “Yeah, I know the party is an hour, Bow, you just gotta let me talk to her, okay?”

Somehow their duo of combat boots and flip flops didn’t end on either Catra or Adora landing on their ass, and in one piece they made it to the passenger door. Opening it and letting Adora down in a gentle slide into the seat, Catra rolled her eyes as she reached over for the seatbelt. “Look, it’s always nice to hear from you Sparkles, but I’m in the middle of something. Your roommate is having a medical emergency, by the way, and I need to get her to the hospital before all of Bright Moon freezes over-”

“_ What? _A medical emergency? Ugh, Catra! What did you do?” 

_ “I _ didn’t do anything.” Catra slammed Adora’s door shut. “ _ I’m _ freezing my fucking ass off getting Adora in the car because _ you _ and _ Bow _missed the fact that she's had appendicitis since Wednesday!”

Pointing fingers at Adora’s friends was stooping pretty damn low, even for her, but there was nothing more satisfying- or more distracting from her own internal freak out- than to hear Glimmer and Bow’s overlapping protests and worries echo over the phone as Catra went from the outdoor blizzard to the car’s indoor cold. She turned on the engine before deciding to shut them up, “I’m pretty sure she’s gonna need surgery, so I hope it doesn’t hurt your aunt’s feeling too much if we can’t make it tonight. I’ll call you guys later.”

“Catra-” Glimmer growled.

“Hanging up now!”

“Don’t you dare! You need to call us from the hospital-”

“Bye!” _ Beep. _

The phone landed in Catra’s lap with a soft _ thud! _Fingernails finding her scalp, she let out a long sigh through her nose as the adrenaline that’d been keeping her warm began to drain from her system. A dull throbbing was starting in Catra’s fingers, her shoulders, her jaw; waiting for an eternity out in the car even without heat was a fucking walk in the park compared to nearly an hour out in the elements, throwing her body into and up against snow as the wind shot her every nerve straight to hell. Her nose and ears were just foreign objects sitting on her face now. A shiver wracked her body and Catra sucked in a breath to keep herself from whimpering. 

Catra had about, mmm, maybe fifteen minutes before the pain took over completely. This, _ this, _is why the northeast could get fucked. The heat might be a bitch but it never punished her in weekend long migraines no painkiller could chase away. Fifteen minutes was all Catra had before the throbbing morphed into a simmer and then into burning before becoming a full on fucking migraine. Her weekend had gone from lousy, to worse, to straight up agonizing.

_ Now fucking Sparkles is on my case. I’m literally doing everything I can! I’m basically a human snow plow at this point. _

God, Catra hated everything.

“Mmmggh,” sounded the near comatose lump seating in the seat next to her and just like that, Adora went from being a shadowed blob out of the corner of Catra’s eyes to the only thing worth being on her mind. Pfft, what fucking cold? What pain? The adrenaline was back with a fury and it gave Catra back her focus.

“Shit!” Catra lifted her head from the steering wheel to see Adora shivering violently against the passenger door, “Oh my God, Adora, you’re totally freezing! Ugh, watch me let you die of hypothermia before they can even take your appendix out.”

_ You let her walk out into a snow storm wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants? And fucking flip flops! God, I always knew you were dumb but this is a new level of stupid. _

“No, Catra I- I’m fine,” Adora tried objecting through chattering teeth. _ Fine, my ass. _Catra pushed the weak grip of Adora’s hand off her arm as she reached under her feet for the duffel bag. Scorpia and her annoying zest for preparedness were about to come to the rescue. Again.

Rummaging through the bag for the sweatshirt she’d found earlier- and stuffing one of the pairs of fluffy socks for Adora between her teeth so she wouldn’t lose them in this overstuffed hell- Catra tried to move as fast as her shaking hands would let her. Stupid cold, always slowing her down. Stupid overpacked bag. Catra had told Scorpia none of this shit was necessary!

“You don’t have to do this for me.” Adora’s voice cut through the cold. Catra spat the socks out onto her lap, flimsy fibers still on her tongue.

“No, I _ do, _ Adora. I do, okay?” Catra threw her hands onto the steering wheel and the sound resonated throughout the car. “Because it’s not about me anymore, it’s about us-” _ fuck, why would you say that? So much for not being so damn transparent _“-and, and you need to let me do this for you, okay?”

_ I promised myself that I would take care of you and that way, I wouldn’t lose you this time! _

Those ocean eyes, Catra could feel them watching her as she dove back into the duffle bag. There were words hanging in the air that Adora was about to say, but Catra wasn’t about to let hearing them derail her again. Thank God she managed to find and fish the sweatshirt out from the bag before Adora could open her mouth.

“Put this on.” Without looking, Catra tossed the maroon fabric Adora’s way, wincing internally when it collided with Adora’s chest.

“Ok.” At least Adora didn’t put up a fight with that one, but making her maneuver her arms and shoulders in a way that thrust them above her head and twisted her abdomen probably made Catra the worst girlfriend in the history of the world. “Does it- does it say _ “conDRAGulations?” _ In glitter?” Despite the obvious pain, there was something weirdly joyful in Adora’s voice.

“I borrowed it from Scorpia.” Catra bit back a smile. Adora let out a small laugh. Something about the sound- god, that was Catra’s favorite sound, Adora laughing,- had Catra reaching out for her girlfriend’s hand and she looked up from the steering wheel, “Hey.” Ocean eyes caught split ones and Catra figured that since they were sitting in the first place where they actually tried to be honest with each other, that she could say this and Adora would hear it. “You are _ not _ an inconvenience, Adora.” _ If you only knew how much it fucking hurts to hear you say that about yourself. _ “ _ Especially _not to me.”

Adora gave a reluctant nod as Catra squeezed her hand. 

“_ Next _ time, you bother me, ok?” A second went by. Catra pushed her thumb down into Adora’s. “Ok?”

“Ok. I promise, Catra.” replied Adora, bringing their joined hands closer to her shivering body, and that’s how Catra knew- and was able to lose all the pent up tension in her shoulders long enough to drive in the goddamn snow- she actually meant it this time around.

_

Turns out the only thing in Bright Moon colder than the actual weather was the reception at the hospital.

Bouncing her knee up and down, Catra kept her chin in the palm of her hand, elbow digging into her thigh, as she searched the waiting room for a clock that could tell her the fucking time and how long she had been sitting here by herself. Somewhere between Sparkles’ invasive (but actually well meaning) phone call and putting the car into park as they pulled up to the northwest side of the hospital, ready to brave the onslaught of snow to try and reach the sliding doors, Catra’s phone died. Well, that’s what she got for being so damn poor she couldn’t afford an upgrade. And for letting Entrapta play with it’s operating system multiple times. And for letting Scorpia pack her duffel bag ‘cause her fraying phone charger wasn’t even in there among the hot cocoa packets and socks. But hey, at least Catra had gotten that extra forty seven minutes of sleep.

The sixth floor waiting area was a ghost town; amid the sea of chairs, the water cooler, and a plant wilting in the far corner she was completely alone. Catra’s boots, soaked and full of cold slosh now after that pretty brutal trek through the parking lot, squeaked on the spotless linoleum floor and when she breathed in, she was hit with that unnerving smell of sanitation chemicals and latex. Ugh, what kind of idiotic idea was it to bring Adora to a fucking hospital? Catra hated these stuck up places of death and disease, the way the interior design looked straight out of the nineties, and how the cleaning rituals were just a poor attempt to cover up all the death and disease happening around her. 

Okay, maybe not _ all _around her. Despite the blizzard upping its ante every fifteen minutes- like that would call for some emergencies happening through the city, right?- there was almost no one beside the hospital staff walking around. Catra wasn’t sure that made her feel any better.

Now that Catra had gotten Adora here in one piece, it was out of the frying pan and straight into the fire. This retroactive panic was different from the brand forged from surviving that she was so used to, that had forced her to act back there in Adora’s apartment.As she sat in the waiting room listening to the elevator open and close, the nurses requesting doctors to different wards over the P.A., and that one squeaking wheel of the food cart being pushed up and down the hallway (a hallway Catra could see but wasn’t welcome in) she was left with little distraction to the vengeful, acidic agenda of her own guilt and worry.

_ Is there seriously not a single fucking clock in here? _Catra ran her eyes over the room from left to right, top to bottom, but again came back empty handed. No outdated analog to match the cracking blue leather of the chair her ass was sitting in. No fancy digital one that would also tell her the date and the plummeting temperature. There was a TV on the east wall, muted and broadcasting the latest update from The Weather Channel with captions a solid minute behind, but without the time it didn’t help Catra figure out how fucking long she’d been sitting her since that twink nurse with the desperate, slutty haircut tore her girlfriend away from her and then mouthed off to Catra about exposing Adora to the cold in her condition.

“Ugh,” Catra whined, abandoning her chin rest to throw her forehead in her hands. Why was she spending so much energy caring about this? The time was just gonna confirm what she probably already knew anyway! Looking for a clock was just looking for reminders of where she was trapped for the time being: in the holy hell of biohazardous germs and personal triggers, during a fucking snow storm that news broadcast emphasized wasn’t letting up but actually gaining momentum, without a single piece of news of where her girlfriend was or _ how _she was in a fucking hour.

At least Catra figured an hour. She’d volunteered her brain up for dissociation the minute after that cunt in scrubs had rolled Adora up the forbidden hallway in a wheelchair, telling her all smug, _ “I’m just gonna take her back for some preliminary tests to see what’s happening. Wait here, sweetie,” _but Catra had waisted away during enough Weaver punishments, Hordak meltdowns, minimum wage shifts, and most recently an endless amount of Uber rides to know her internal clock was almost always right on the money.

_ How long do preliminary tests even take? _ Catra bit down on her tongue, crossed her arms and spread out her legs as she leaned back in her chair. _ And why wouldn’t that fugly nurse let me go back there with Adora? Douchebag. I should’ve punched the botox out of his lip. _ And she almost had, right after Catra stepped forward to follow his pompous ass and he _ placed his hand _ on her shoulder, stopped her in her tracks with a shake of his head he probably thought was the most devastating thing to ever happen to Catra, and shoved a clipboard in her hands with paperwork to fill out in the designated waiting area.

Well Catra had filled that out with all of the needed information- Adora’s name, birthdate, blood type, allergies, and medications she was _ supposed _ to be on (Catra marked it with a note, hoping a lecture from whatever doctor would be seeing to her would get Catra out of having that super fun conversation)- skipped the insurance information, and scribbled her own name and phone number as Adora’s emergency contact before slamming the clipboard onto the nurse’s desk. _ That _ nurse didn’t even bother to look up from her computer, popping the gum in her mouth when she told Catra with a bored tone that they’d be with her in a few minutes.

And then few minutes turned into a whole fucking hour. The longest, most brutal hour of Catra’s entire life.

_ Screw this. I haven’t heard a single thing about Adora and obviously the nurses don’t give a flying fuck about telling me about any updates! Isn’t the fucking healthcare system supposed to be a _ service _ industry? _

Every single joint in Catra’s body screamed bloody murder as she stood up from her now soaked seat, but Catra didn’t care about them, or the steady throbbing above of her eye and in the linnings of her ear. These hospital motherfuckers owed her an explanation ages ago and between waiting for Adora in the car and waiting for news next to a water cooler that never stopped dripping, Catra had done enough waiting for a lifetime. Maybe nine lifetimes.

As she approached the desk, Catra ran her finger nails through the gray frizz by her ears and tucked the only bit of straight hair she had behind her ears. “I need information about Adora Reign.” Her voice echoed off the tile. “I checked in with her about an hour ago and haven’t heard anything.”

“Mmkay.” The gum chewing ditz from earlier kept her eyes on the screen. “Did you fill out the paperwork?”

_ Huh, yeah I did, what- is it seriously still on her fucking desk? _ Catra kept the growl ( _ find where Adora is now, throw tantrum later) _ in her throat when she spotted the clipboard from earlier just sitting there by the mouse. _ So, she hasn’t even touched it?! There’s literally no one else here! What the fuck has she been doing all this time?! _

“Uh yeah,” Catra replied, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets. “I was told they were taking her back for some tests. Is she _ still _back there?”

The nurse popped her gum, almost killing Catra’s eardrum, before turning away- _ fucking finally!- _ from her computer. “I’m sorry, I can only share that information with family members.”

“Adora doesn’t have any family.” _ ‘Cause they were all murdered in cold blood by a narcissistic maniac and his gang member dipshits. _

“Are you related to her, like a step sister or something?” the nurse asked, looking Catra up and down.

Catra’s eye twitched. “I’m her _ girlfriend. _”

“Oh. Well have you contacted her next of kin, any relatives or family members?”

“She _ doesn’t _ have any next of kin because she was _ orphaned _ as a fucking infant,” Catra started up through gritted teeth, taking her hands out of her pockets so fast she gave herself a paper cut on Adora’s secret notebook pages just so she could reach over and choke this idiot keeping her from her girlfriend on some dumb, heteronormative (Ugh, did she just use _ that _ word? It was official! She’d been spending too much time with the Best Friend Squad.) technicality. “Why can’t you just tell _ me _where she is, before I rip that gum out of your mouth and shove it up your-”

“Is there a problem here?” A voice from over Catra’s shoulders killed her threat in its tracks and the chilly, British accent tore her attention away from the now wide eyed nurse to the person who had just materialized behind her. 

“Angella?” Catra scoffed in surprise at the woman behind her. Gone were the wings and crown her She Ra character was always supposed to be drawn with, but the amused look in the taller woman’s eyes confirmed Catra’s suspicion.

Yep. This was Sparkles’ mom alright. 

_ Looks like my day just _ keeps _ getting better! _

"Oh hi, Dr. Detario.” If it weren’t for Catra trying to get over the shock of lengthy pink hair and pantsuit combination, she might’ve enjoyed the tiny quiver in the nurse’s acknowledgement of her boss. 

“Good evening, Jacqueline.” Angella nodded in the direction of the nurses’ station before turning to Catra, “Miss Jauregui. It’s nice to see you again and not under the circumstances of a mysterious, possibly life ending car accident.”

Catra looked around her- seriously was she getting pranked? Had she pissed Glimmer off so badly that her mom was gonna fuck with her just for fun?- opening her mouth only for her inner dumbass to come out, “What’re you doing here?”

“You mean at my place of work?” The hospital administrator raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, no-” _ way to look like an asshole, Catra, _“-I meant, why aren’t you at Casta’s party? Wasn’t it supposed to be starting like, right now?”

“Oh right, the party my sister-in-law is hosting, I almost forgot,” sighed Angella. “I would’ve attended that _ lovely _ evening with the rest of my late husband’s relatives, but unfortunately the storm struck while I was at work and I can’t see to it to abandon my patients or employees during such an emergency.” 

_ Wow. _ Catra fought the smirk on her face. _ How come no one told me Angella was such a boss ass bitch? _

Unveiling the iPad from under her crossed hands, Angella began to pursue it with an air of power Catra was almost jealous of. “Now, what seems to be the problem here? I’d like to think I’d be of some help to both you and my nurse whom you’ve given quite the fright, Catra.”

“I brought Adora in an _ hour _ ago,” Catra started with a bite to her tone. “‘Cause her appendix is bursting. _ No one _ has told me anything about where she is or what happened to her, and now _ your _nurse won’t tell me either because I’m not ‘related to her’ or some equally stupid bullshit reason,” she finished, leaning with her elbow on the counter and sending Nurse Jacqueline a look to send home the point.

“Alright then, I’ll see to it that this is taken care of.” Angella nodded and Catra came within an inch of throwing her head back with a groan, the only legitimate thing stopping being the pain pounding against her skull. _ Great, now _ Queen _ Sparkles is gonna have me shut down, too. And probably thrown out. Fuck me, I guess! _

“Jacqueline, has Adora been put in the system?” Catra’s eyes flew open in surprise, just in time to catch the satisfied grin on Angella’s face. “I know that is a problem I ran into last time with Miss Jauregui.”

A few clicks of the keyboard and Jacqueline had the first answer Catra’d gotten since she got here, “Uh, yeah it looks like it.”

“Fantastic. Now, would you mind going back and getting us an update? If she does have acute appendicitis, I would anticipate that the most likely conclusion after running her labs is to get her prepped for surgery. I need you to find out if that’s happening.”

“Sure.” Shrugging, Nurse Jacqueline fell back into her routine boredom before pushing away from the desk and grabbing the clipboard Catra almost threw at her face forty five minutes ago. 

It wasn’t like Nurse Jacqueline was in any hurry to find Adora by the looks of how she shuffled up through the hallway and checked her phone three times before she even made it halfway, but Catra couldn’t help the way her jaw dropped as she stood there in silence. Holy shit. It was _ that _easy? All she had needed to find Adora was fucking connection with the upper staff? Well shit, if she’d known getting Angella down here would’ve gotten shit done she might not have hung up on Glimmer.

“I apologize for the wait.” Angella’s words snapped Catra out of her shock. “Unfortunately we’re somewhat understaffed due to the weather.”

“Don’t worry, I figured this wasn’t exactly your A-team.” And by figured Catra meant really fucking hoped, for both the sake of her girlfriend and the sake of her sanity.

Angella pursed her lips, reassuming her authoritative stance from before. Gesturing to the waiting room, the hospital administrator asked, “Would it bother you if I joined you?”

“Um,” Catra hung her response in the air. At this point her options for entertainment were a silent weather broadcast and a dead phone. Who knew, maybe keeping Angella around would keep the nurses from treating her like dog shit. Maybe she would even be at least some distraction from her migraine aura currently turning all her organs inside out. “I guess?”

_ Fuck, this is weird. _ It was Catra’s choice and she was making it an all, but she couldn’t help but wonder what alternate dimension she’d crossed into as she took a seat next to Angella. _ Wait- am I seriously gonna hang out with _ Glimmer’s _ mom? _

“You’re really gonna sit here and wait with me? Don’t you have like, I dunno, more important things to be doing?” Catra prodded. Her knee had started bouncing up and down again.

“I’d say that keeping you company _ is _ important, and I do- believe it or not, Catra- care for Adora quite deeply,” Angella remarked as she unlocked her iPad.

“I just thought that since it’s a city wide emergency or whatever, that you’d have a lot of work to do,” she mumbled.

Either Catra was having a stroke- just her luck she was in the hospital then!- and her mind was playing tricks on her as it shut down, or Angella full on winked. “So does Castaspella.”

_ Holy shit. _Turning in the opposite direction so the other woman couldn’t see her, Catra swallowed her laughter.

“I should have you know that it wasn’t my intention to be making my rounds until a little later,” Angella started and Catra fought her aching body to turn back and face her, “but once I heard that you had checked Adora in I wanted to check up on the both of you.”

“Wait, how did you know I checked Adora in?” 

“Glimmer called me.”

“Oh.” _ Fuck. _ “She’s pissed, isn’t she?” _ And I am in so much trouble with the Bright Moon muppets. There goes getting invited to another one of these parties! _

“Actually no. My daughter and Bow are more worried than angry.” Catra sighed at this response, her shoulders rolling back and head kissing the wall as she listened to the quiet tap of Angella’s fingers on her screen.

“But they _ are _ angry with me.”

“Not so much you, as it turns out. It seems Adora failed to mention her appendix pain to all three of you,” explained Angella. “That’s what they can’t seem to wrap their heads around.”

Knee bouncing, Catra took a deep breath, “I was pissed that she didn’t tell me but…I _ kinda _ get it? Our foster mom or caretaker or whatever used to make Adora hide any big injuries she got when we were playing so the teachers at school didn’t see.” _ Weaver was always so fucking paranoid and whenever Adora was sick or hurt it got worse. For _ all _ of us. _

“Hmm, and here I thought she just had a rather atypical way of dealing with stress.” Angella let out a small hum.

“There’s that, too.”

“Dr. Detario?” that voice, accompanied by the grating sound of chewing gum, caught Catra’s attention and she looked up to find Nurse Jacqueline coming around the corner into the waiting area.

_ Holy crap, she’s back already. That was fast. _

“I was able to locate Adora Reign, and yes, she is being prepped for an appendectomy. Dr. Mullins is with her now.” The nurse only spoke or made eye contact with her boss, but Catra ran right past that straight up disrespect once her girlfriend was mentioned. 

“Thank you, Jacquel-”

“Where? Can I see her?” Catra stood up. Partly to get in Chewing Gum’s face. Partly to get a running start.

“Again, only family members-” Nurse Jacqueline tried her old for shit excuse only to forget Catra had roped her boss over to her side.

“Jacqueline, I will be making an exception this time around.” Catra bit back a smug smile as Angella stood up behind her. “I request that you take me _ and _ Miss Jauregui back to the surgical suite and afterwards, I implore you to look at a more _ updated _ version of our visitors policy.”

Okay, yeah. Catra owed Glimmer for calling her mother and blabbing about the appendicitis. A thank you, an apology, probably a fucking favor, too. 

But trying to drum up whatever that half-assed favor was gonna be for her girlfriend’s roommates was a shit distraction for Catra’s brain as she walked with Angella and the newest Bright Mooner she’d made an enemy of up the hall. Underneath the usual fire of her pissed nerves, there was an impatience brewing that felt a little too much like fear. And if quaked like a duck…

There was a 99% chance Adora was going to make it to the other side of this _ routine _procedure; Catra had to keep telling herself that. There was also a 99% chance Catra was going to vomit all over these sanitized floors and all over Nurse Spearmint’s scrubs either way. Her body had turned against her, and she was pretty fucking sure her heart had, too.

_ Growing soft, my ward? _ Catra tried in vain to push Hordak’s voice out of her brain as three pairs of footsteps echoed off the tile, _ That’s not a surprise. You always were a pathetic disappointment- _

A _ squeak _sounded in Catra’s ears, her boot colliding with a low metal rim and she was thrown back into reality. A reality that was finally not a pain in the ass to live in, ‘cause when she looked up, she saw that she had bumped straight into a hospital bed being wheeled down the hall. The hospital bed that had her girlfriend lying in it. “Adora!” 

Adora didn’t respond right away to the sound of her own name, but every muscle in Catra’s back relaxed just the same. Adora was awake alright, and by the looks of it, high off something worth its salt coming in from the IV attached in her right arm. Those ocean eyes of hers were comically wide as she watched herself flex her fingers like a baby discovering its own limbs. Her hair was free of its suffocating pony tail and she’d been put in a hospital gown- a for a second that heartburn-equse guilt bubbled in Catra’s stomach again, ‘cause this isn’t how Adora had wanted to spend their weekend together- but she was pretty occupied giggling to herself, so Catra could say in confidence that at least she wasn’t in pain. Anymore.

“Dr. Mullins, how are we today?” Angella acknowledged the man standing above the bed in surgical scrubs complete with mask, gown, and cap. Squeezing past both of them, Catra positioned herself at the head of the bed, leaning down on the rim as she brushed some of Adora’s hair out of her face. This act got her ditzy attention, and her dilated pupils looked straight into Catra’s eyes, an equally out of it smile coming over her face. 

“Cehhhtra.” Adora snorted to herself. “Ceeeeehhtra.”

“Eh, can’t say I’m too bad, Dr. Dee,” somewhere far away the surgeon responded to Angella’s greeting. Catra took Adora’s hand in hers. “Glad not to be out in that weather! It is _ really _ coming down out there.” 

“Agreed, I recently heard an update that they're closing down some roads in and out of the city.”

“Hey Adora,” Catra poked her nose with the tip of her nail. _ Oh my fucking God, loopy Adora is back. Looks like the universe is gonna reward me for all my hard work today after all. _

“It’s Cehhtra!” Adora, her nose wrinkling, squealed loud enough for the whole damn floor to hear. “It’s my _ favorite _person!”

“Yikes! Good thing your sister-in-law let you outta that party.”

Shrugging, Catra kept the comment from going to her head- _ in your fucking faces, Rainbow and Sparkles!- _by reminding herself this was the miraculous work of anesthesia; drunk Adora didn’t know what she was saying anymore the drugged Adora did. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Yes, a good thing indeed.”

“Do you wanna hear a secret?” giggled Adora.

“Uh, sure?” Catra wasn’t sure if she should be entertaining this or not. Yeah, she was enjoying every freaking second of it, but honestly she’d probably had more than her fair share of Adora’s secrets today. Taking advantage of Adora fucked up on anesthesia wasn’t on the same level as rifling through her belongings, yet Catra faltered with her in this weird, adorable state and the feeling that came with seeing her so vulnerable.

Adora yanked Catra down by the collar of her jacket for the second time that day- _ How is she fucking strong in pain AND on drugs? And I’m seriously turned on _ right _ now?- _and said in a full volume into her ear, “They’re gonna give me sur-” she hiccuped, “-gery.”

“Mmkay.” Catra stifled a laugh. _ High Adora doesn’t know what a secret is, that’s fucking hysterical. _

“Wanna hear another one?” Adora’s fingers curled into the leather of Catra’s jacket. 

“Sure. Why not?”

Somewhere in the back of Catra’s mind, she could still hear Angella and the surgeon just chatting each other up. Since they weren’t in any hurry- obviously- to get on with this surgery, Catra went back to stroking Adora’s hair as she giggled to herself.

“My appendix is infeeeeeeected!” she stretched out the word like it was brand new. 

“Also not a secret, Adora.” Catra smiled to herself.

Adora opened her mouth, blowing up a bubble with her own spit, laughing up a riot when it popped. A strange warmth enveloped Catra’s abdomen as she ran down the frizz of her straw locks. It was looking like they really were going to be okay and blizzard aside, they’d weathered the worst part of the storm. Catra’s shoulders fell as Adora opened her mouth again, “Okay, well, do you wanna hear a _ real _ secret? A _ fun _secret?”

“I mean, if it’s a _ fun _secret-”

“I am...” Adora stuck her finger on Catra’s nose, “ in love… with you.”

_ What?! _

The half squeak, half screech that resulted from Catra’s freak out was covered- lucky for her ass- by the fact Adora _ erupted _into uncontrollable giggling the second she’d enunciated the last word. Jumping from the bed, Catra’s foot slipped on the rim and pushed the bed straight into the surgeon as her scarred back hit the wall and her hands flew into her hair.

_ No, no, no, this can’t be happening. This isn’t happening! This isn’t fucking happening! _

“Ow!”

_ She’s so fucked up now on anesthesia she doesn’t have any idea what the hell she’s even saying! Adora is just spouting nonsense she doesn’t mean. _

“Catra, are you alright?” Angella’s face took on a new confused type of concern as she turned away from Adora.

_ Adora doesn’t mean it. She’s on drugs and probably thinks the sky is naturally purple! Adora doesn’t mean it. _

_ She _ can’t _ mean it. _

“He he, she has the jumpies! Hey doc!” Adora reached out- ‘cause everything was fine and dandy for her!- and started swatting for the surgeon, “Doctor! Doctor, doctor, doctor, doctor, doctor-”

Still nursing his wounded foot, the surgeon looked up. “Uh, yes?”

“Doctor, I need you to look at my friend ‘cause she has a _ really _ bad case of the jumpies. I think you should treat her first, thas- thas _ wayyyyyyy _ more important. Also, will you ask if she’s-” another exaggerated hiccup, “if she’s single?”

“Before I knew you guys wanted to see her I already had Alexis hook her IV up,” the surgeon started to explain as if a) they couldn’t put two and two together like a bunch of idiot kindergartners, b) that made _ anything _about this better! “So she’s on a pretty effective dose of this stuff.”

“That much is evident.” Angella stepped forward and placed her hand right on the rim where Catra’s had been.

“Hey!” High Adora perked up. “I know you!”

A high pitch ringing in both of her ears, Catra watched their conversation from outside her body. Physically? She could see them; she could see Adora laugh and giggle and squirm against her pillow before taking an interest in the tube running up her arm, the tube responsible for all of this. Catra could hear them; could hear Angella reprimand Adora in a gentle voice about playing with her IV, could hear Adora mistake her for Glimmer multiple times, could hear the doctor say they should probably get moving back to the surgical suite.

Emotionally? That part of her had checked out, blacked out, and left her to face this cruel truth alone. 

‘Cause that’s what Catra was right? Now that Adora had crossed _ that _ line. Now that Catra knew she couldn’t even say it _ sober _. Now that her appendix was one wormlike jerk away from bursting and putting her life at risk, now that Adora was off to surgery and sleep that would make her forget this “conversation” even happened...Catra was alone with only with those six stupid words for company.

_ “I am… in love… with you.” _Adora’s loopy inflection echoed within that splitting chasm of Catra’s emptiness.

_ All those times Adora looked at me like she was sick to her stomach and one stupid move from saying something we’d both regret, it was this, wasn’t it? _

Catra bit down on her tongue. It was the only thing that kept her from screaming.

“_ I am… in love… with you.” _

“So um, it’s cool with you guys if we head back right? I’ll make sure Alexis keeps you updated since that wasn’t really Jackie’s thing.” Dr. Mullins was saying to the two of them, back in reality Catra only had one foot in. Adora’s ocean eyes caught Catra’s split ones, a content smile coming over her face as just the sight of her so happy and so carefree threw Catra back into her body. She scoffed, still leaning on the wall, and forced herself to look away.

“Of course. I would hate to keep you any longer.” Catra hated the way she could feel Angella’s eyes looking her up and down for clues. “Thank you for your time, Ted.”

“Anything for you, Dr. Dee! Miss Reign, I’m going to take you back now.” 

“Yay!” Adora cried out, clapping her hands one second, a serious look on her face the next. “Okay Doc, I am ready to give you surgery.”

The surgeon made an amused face. ‘Cause yeah. That’s what _ this _ was. Amusing as hell. “Um, I’m performing surgery on you, Miss Reign.”

“Mmkay, you let me know how that goes,” that fried version of Catra’s girlfriend sighed before falling back into her pillow and shutting her eyes. _ Well at least she’s _ satisfied _ with herself. _Resuming his previous look of confusion, the doctor shrugged, extending his arms and giving Adora’s bed a mellow push.

“Catra? Would you like to join me back in the waiting room? She shouldn’t be in surgery for more than a few hours. Perhaps you would like someone to keep you company?” asked Angella, her voice no competition for the animosity of Catra’s thoughts. It’s not like she had an actual answer among the annoying, ever growing shit symphony in her head.

Catra watched the surgeon walk up the hall and take Adora away from her, a view that seemed to be a recurring theme in her life no matter what city she was in. Back in her body, the sight was tearing her in half. _ “I am... in love... with you,” _ she heard Adora say again in her head and Catra wanted to run after them, to catch up to Adora’s bed, throw her hands on the rim and promise to never, _ ever _ let go. 

_ “I’m in love with you.” _ Catra’s brain bent Adora’s words into that normal, comforting cadence she knew _ so _ well and brought them back to her, and Catra wanted to run, as far away from this fucking hospital that was humanly possible, and never- _ ever- _ look back. 

_

Growing up a pawn in other people’s mind games may have sucked the big one, but it gave Catra the gift of a functioning bullshit meter. An accurate one, too. She knew how to spot a useless phrase from a valuable one, and she knew how to claw past the lies until she reached the truth buried underneath. Getting to that truth, the one that made people tick and the one Catra could exploit to her own advantage, always made the lying and pretending worth it in the end.

And now the truth was sitting in Catra’s lap; gone were the lies and the deceit that disguised it before, and it was just another useless phrase.

_ “I love you.” Yeah, right. Sure you do, Adora. You, and _ everyone else _ whoever needed me around for something until they didn’t. _

Angella’s company was turning out to be a shitty distraction back in the waiting room, the uneven drip of the water cooler torture, the soft _ pits _ and _ pats _ of the hospital administrator’s fingers on her iPad a terrible but fitting soundtrack to her inward spiral. At least half an hour had passed by, and the other woman hadn’t bothered to say a word. Her ease of just sitting here was starting to piss Catra off. The silence ran up and down Catra’s back like an itch she couldn’t reach or scratch, so she passed the time curling and uncurling her fingers, pushing her gray tufts behind her ears, bouncing the sole of heel _ up down, up down, up down _against the tile floor, faster and faster and faster until-

“I can’t help but seem to notice the change in your demeanor since we saw Adora.” Angella spoke up without taking her eyes off her tablet and Catra couldn’t help roll her eyes cause, _ No shit, Sherlock. Like mother, like daughter. _ “For the sake of my floors- and your shoes- may I inquire as to why this is? You made seeing Adora out to be a matter of life or death, so pardon my confusion.”

“It’s nothing.” Catra crossed her arms and leaned her head back against the wall. Just barely could she feel the simmer between her skull and her brain, and yet it was the only thing she could feel at the same time. The languid, steady warmth being pushed from the hospital air vents had turned her soaked clothes damp and her leather jacket made a noise that betrayed her every movement.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Well it is.”

“Hmm. Does it have anything to do with what I overheard Adora say to you before you almost broke expensive hospital equipment?”

Catra’s jacket squished again as she sat up despite the protest of her aching, tired limbs. “You _ heard _that?” she scoffed, scrambling to cover up the embarrassment and shock in her voice and on her face with forced anger. That anger came pretty easily, actually.

“I did.” Angella nodded. “And that’s where my confusion begins. You and Adora have been together for quite a few months and your devotion to one another is obvious, if you don’t mind me saying so. Surely you’ve exchanged that sentiment before.”

_ Ugh, here we go again. We _ get _ it. I’m whipped for Adora. _

“Adora’s never said it before today,” Catra admitted in a whisper. Every movement, every thought, was like an ice pick bludgeoning the top of her eye over and over and over.

“Oh, really? Adora’s usually very open with her expressions of affection,” hummed the hospital administrator.

“You don’t think _ I _ know that?” Catra whirled around and flashed her teeth. All those emotions Adora’d been pulling out of her all fucking day Catra had pushed to the back where didn’t even to see or deal with them, and, out of habit, built a dam around them. A shitty dam. Was there something about dying your hair pink and having Glimmer’s last name that made you stupid for shit, that made you charge at a damn with a battering ram of questions? Well it was fucking working! The dam was cracking and Catra was breaking, her sanity threatening to float away with it. “You think I don’t _ know _ my own girlfriend? I know Adora better than anyone ever has, okay? Better than anyone ever _ will. _ And I don’t- I don’t know why she hasn’t said it! I don’t know if she even really feels that way, or if she ever could about me! I don’t know why she stares at me like- like a piece of meat, like she’s _ just _about to say it and just stops, okay?!”

_ What is about me that makes her falter? Does she look at me and stops believing how she feels? Does Adora see me- and sees what everyone else sees? _

That person in the Polaroid wearing her face. That person _ wasn’t _ her. Catra wasn’t some costume wearing one-of-the-gang. Catra was… Catra was someone _ no one _could love without contract or condition, no matter how hard they tried, how much they wanted to. 

Selena. Mrs. Weaver. Hordak. Lonnie._ Them. _An endless number of faces, an endless number of roommates. Exes. Friends. 

What made Adora any different from them?

“Adora is not good at keeping secrets. She’s _ always _ sucked at it, even when we were little kids.” _ Always ratted us out to Weaver, narced on me in school, the woman is basically the Princess of Snitching. _Catra’s hands slid out of her pockets, her left one scraping paper again, and hit her thighs, “So if this is really the thing people in relationships do, then I don’t know why she wouldn’t just come out and say that-” Catra swallowed bile, “that she loves me.”

The sound of Angella hitting the lock button her iPad echoed in Catra’s ears. “Maybe, it has something to do with the way you’re reacting as we talk about it.” 

“Pfft.” Catra rolled her eyes. _ Okay, so now it’s my fault Adora’s stupid enough to throw that word around. _

“I mean, it’s possible the drugs made her overly sentimental and so that’s why she said what she did but actually doesn’t feel that way,” Angella continued and Catra forced her eyes shut, “or it’s because she does love you and doesn’t know how to say it. It’s very natural to feel this way this far along in a relationship, and you and Adora have a connection that most people dating at your age don’t share. Is it really a bad thing that Adora loves you?”

_ “You don’t have to act like that’s such a bad thing.” _Netossa’s voice rang in Catra’s head.

Looking the other woman over, trying to find that slightest move that would expose her ulterior motive, Catra frowned. “Why do you care? You’re a doctor, not a therapist.” _ So it’s none of your fucking business, lady. _

“I thought talking about what you are feeling might help pass the time,” shrugged Angella. “I would’ve asked about your work or the classes Glimmer tells me you were taking, and it’s been sometime since I’ve gotten an update about the novel you and Adora are working on, but you looked like you were about to explode.”

“I _ wasn’t _-”

“And you’re right, I’m _not _a mental health practitioner nor do I have any expertise in the area, but Glimmer’s had more than her fair share of crises. Consider it motherhood that makes me qualified to ask about this.”

Motherhood, huh? Well there was Angella’s fucking answer. _ You have one my walk out on you and the other make you her punching bag, you get the message. Messages. Death is easier than loving you, not that it was possible anyway. _

And why waste love on someone like her anyway? Catra had an unmatched skill in hurting people, in destroying their lives and running away before she could ever find the dignity to apologise; it was always an indirect consequence that came from her own self destructive behavior. No matter how hard Catra tried to make herself a better person, she hurt everyone around her eventually. She pushed everyone away, eventually. And it didn’t matter if she figured out overnight how to change her behavior, they _ always _ took their love away. Eventually. Using time and energy to love, really love the way Catra knew Adora could, someone like her when that was the determined, inevitable outcome always brought the hurt to a new level of betrayal, so _ why _did Adora have to go and make herself one of those people?

Catra pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her and digging her false claws in the wet fabric of her jeans. _ If Adora loves me now, _ she swallowed the sob that had been rising in her throat cause the last thing she needed to was cry like a fucking baby in front of Sparkle’s mom, _ what’s it gonna feel like when she stops loving me? When _ I _ do that something that makes her stop loving me? _

“Can I ask you something, Catra?” Next to her, Catra heard Angella cross one leg over the other. There was a soft _ clunk! _as the hospital administrator abandoned her iPad on the table of month old People magazines next to her chair.

“I guess?” Catra’s strangled response came out of her lap muffled and contorted. She hadn’t exactly bothered to lift her face out of her knees and be present in one of those awkward, new level of uncomfortable mother-daughter conversations she’d spent her teen years missing out on. What, Angella was too bored of her actual job and her super entertaining iPad to let Catra just sit in her filth like she deserved? That urge to self destruct, the same one that made her _ so _unlovable and even more disposable, was becoming an all consuming black hole in her chest faster than she could think to stop it. And with Catra’s head pounding red hot every time her heart beat, her clothes and body soaked to the bone in melted snow, she just wanted to let the black hole take her, dismantle her for all she was worth, and spit her out on the other side of this.

“How do _ you _ feel?” Angella asked and Catra lifted her head up, soggy, half formed curls sticking to her cheeks as she pulled her knees closer to her chest.

_ Weak, safe- I don’t fucking know! _

Despite knowing exactly what Mama Sparkles meant, deflecting was just _ too _easy at this point. “About what?”

“Do you reciprocate Adora’s feelings?”

_ God, is this how _ every _ healthy mother-daughter conversation goes? Or is just Angella? No wonder she and Glimmer are always on the phone screaming at each other, since she wants to be this frank. I thought she said she _ wasn’t _ a fucking therapist! _

“Do you love her, Catra?” Angella pressed again.

“I’ve always loved Adora.” The words hung heavy in the air, like they had the power to redefine reality itself. _ Good. _ Catra thought, _ let them. _

“Oh, I-”

“Save it,” Catra bit, throwing a glare in the other woman’s direction. “I know everyone in the goddamn world can magically see how I feel about Adora, but it’s not one of those fucked up, cliche, everyone-knows-but-_ them _situation, okay? It’s something I’ve just known... my whole life.”

Catra could hear Angella take a deep breath through her nose, and every aching muscle braced out of an old, and somewhat shameful, instinct. But when the doctor opened her mouth to reply, her voice wasn’t the grating one of reprimandation Catra was so used to hearing from mothers. “I imagine, given the circumstances in which the two of you grew up, that was not an easy thing to learn about yourself at such an early age.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t.” Catra wiped tears from her eyes “Especially when the foster mother who hated you, who got off on hurting you, was the next person who figured it out.”

“So you were punished for loving Adora?” Angella framed her words like it was a question, but everything in her voice showed that she knew it was the truth.

Sucking up snot into her nose, Catra was now at the mercy of an exhausted body, having lost all her energy to getting Adora to the hospital and the pain that followed as a bitch of a consequence. So there was nothing, no remaining part of that mental dam, to keep her from spilling out of control like this to someone who basically nothing more than a stranger with a face that was just a little bit above familiar. “It wasn’t even a romantic thing, or sexual thing, not a first. I mean, not until we were older. I just knew in the back of my head, that Adora wasn’t _ just _ my best friend, it was like she was my… I don’t fucking know. But I guess Mrs. Weaver did, cause it only made her hate me more. And I was... I was her _ fucking _ prey. But then Adora left me- she left me _ there _ \- and I thought that what I felt for her was gonna go away and that I’d be free, _ finally. _ ” _ Of the pain that loving Adora _ always _ caused me. _

“But it never did, did it?” Angella finished for her.

“No,” Catra exhaled. _ All those girls I stared at in high school hoping one of them would turn around and give me the time of day. All those times I got drunk and made out behind a bar with whatever blonde who was mad enough at her boyfriend to pretend not to be straight until she sobered up enough to realize who she was actually kissing. Every girl I ever got into bed with had blue eyes. Never as blue or as beautiful as Adora’s though, but it was good enough when I couldn’t stop hating myself and just wanted to feel something other than wanting to die. Like how I felt when I was with Adora. _“It just changed, or I-I compartmentalized it, or something. I thought that Bright Moon was the last place on the planet that Adora would be, but then she got in my stupid car and it was like all the work I did to make how I felt go away was pointless, just like that .”

“And yet, despite how angry you are about all this, about having your work made null, you started dating with Adora. You’re still dating Adora, in the face of everything.” _ Because I’m a selfish monster, how is that not obvious?! _“And when no one else was there for Adora because of her own anxieties, you brought her to the hospital during this emergency.” Angella raised an eyebrow.

_ “You don’t have to act like it’s such a bad thing.” _For the third time that day, Netossa’s voice sounded in Catra’s head. 

Wiping her eyes with the bottom of her palm, Catra sniffed. “Yeah, well, maybe my love for Adora isn’t coming out as jealousy or anger anymore.” _ Maybe it’s not that feeling of driving Hordak’s Mustang so fast that I forget for a few minutes how much I hate myself. And maybe all of that scares the shit out of me cause I’m not used to it. _“I love Adora. I don’t love or like a lot of things, but I actually love her, okay? It’s just… normal for me. And I was okay with it being one sided, as long as she could stand me.”

“Then why such a volatile reaction to knowing it’s no _ longer _ one sided?” Angella continued to prod.

Catra buried her head, squirming into her herself until she was basically a soaking wet hermit crab. Yeah, she was aware of how fucking childish this was. She was twenty-five years old, for fuck’s sake! No matter how broken or bruised her psyche was, there was no excuse for how she was acting. 

She just couldn’t help it, not against the enveloping pain of her migraine or convulsion of her emotions blooming in her lungs. And she _ hated _ it.

“Catra,” Angella’s voice walked the line between gentle and domineering, the way good mothers with good hearts spoke to children. The way Catra made her ghost of Selena speak to her. “There is no one here who is going to punish you for your feelings or for acting or speaking your feelings, especially not Adora.”

“I know that!” Well, at least _ part _ of Catra did. Maybe one of her selves could put those logical pieces together, but every other version she carried inside her… those fuckers were on their own (Also out to murder her no less). And what did _ Angella _ know anyway? What cold hard proof did she have that the second Catra worked up the nerve to make her feelings known, Mrs. Weaver was not gonna materialize from out of the shadows? Like _ every fucking time _when they were kids and that witch heard them whispering about a life together, a life beyond that backwater town, that did not include room for her or her mind games.

And now Catra and Adora were so _ close _ to that life that they had whispered about in made up blanket forts under the dining room table. Catra wanted with a want more than want to believe that that’s what Adora wanted too, that that’s why she threatened to pull out of her publishing contract if the travel booking for the next convention didn’t include _ two _train tickets, that that’s why she pulled cat toys (or cat clothes, no matter how many times Catra explained that cat don’t like wearing bow ties and that the internet lies) off the shelf at MegaMart and asked “For Loo-kee in the future? Yes or no?”, that that’s why Adora came to visit her at the shop and convinced Julien to let her have a break for dinner because she’d snuck in a feast of tacos and take-out as well as bottles of caffeinated soda in her backpack. 

But beyond that want, that _ almost _tangible want, were the memories that followed after Mrs. Weaver demanded they take their protective blanket fort down. The lecture that followed for Adora. The belt lashing that was inevitable for Catra. The way Adora wouldn’t speak to her for three or four days, avoided her in the hallways of the house and sat opposite from her in their classes, and chose Mrs. Weaver’s dumb workbooks over playing with her best friend.

_ Adora would never treat me- or anyone, ever- the way Mrs. Weaver treated me. She isn’t capable of that kind of cruelty, even if she wanted to be. If Adora loves me, then she loves me. _ Catra breathed out, and for a split second, the warmth generated by the breath steadied for a second. _ But Adora wasn’t ever good at _ choosing _ me. _

Then again, who had been in Catra’s fucked up telenovela reject of a life?

At this point, Catra was hoping Angella would work her mom magic and drive home this conversation with a point worthy of an emotional breakthrough, or at least a romantic epiphany. Then the hospital administrator would get up, go back to her _ job, _and leave Catra to sleep in the bubble of angst she’d created for herself. Only Angella just sat there next to her like she had all the time in the world. As pissy as her return to silence made Catra, she could guess that if even half of her conversation with an in-crisis Glimmer were anything like this one, the woman was literally made of pure patience. And Catra wasn’t used to that. Wasn’t used to the lack of fury in her eyes or the calm, steady breaths she took, waiting for Catra to say something on her own terms.

That’s what Catra was going to have to do, wasn’t she? To bring this super awkward interaction to a merciful end right? 

Grimacing into her knees, Catra braced herself in preparation. _ Adora’s so fucking lucky she’s the one getting surgery and not talking to the pink haired version of Dr. Phil! _

“It isn’t just the stuff that happened when we were kids, or after Adora left.” Catra found herself brave enough to say, at least in a small and soft voice. “There- there was something else.”

Angella hummed, “And would you like to share that?”

“It depends.” Catra’s response was curt. “Can you like, um...” By some miracle Catra shrunk further into her chair and further away from Angella’s confused expression. “You can’t have me _ committed _, right?”

There! She’d said it, or asked it or- or whatever! 

“Why do I get the feeling my response will keep you from telling me what you need to say?” sighed Angella. But there was no malice to the sound, just a slight inflection Catra recognized from eavesdropping in on Bow’s conversations with Glimmer when Adora was out running or sleeping or in the shower and Catra was getting bored waiting for her. 

“So you can have me committed.” Catra bit her lip.

“I didn’t say that.” 

“Ugh!” Throwing her nails back into her damp mess of hair, Catra knocked her forehead on her knees and hoped the onslaught wave of pain that flowed through her body would be enough of a distraction from Angella’s reaction. “The last time someone told me they loved me, I _ tried _ to kill myself, okay? I was in a fucked up, _ very _low place and then someone who I trusted sold me out and then had guts to say it was because they loved me and no one had ever said they loved me before, so yeah. There you go. You can send me to some psych hospital I can’t pay for and take me away from Adora now.”

_ It’s probably better for everyone anyway. _

A solid minute of silence passed. And that moment of silence split Catra into two places: half of her was here in the hospital, her golden iris twitching at the sound of the uneven water cooler drip. The other half was stranded in the hot desert heat of dissociation, the blue of her left eye piercing the reflection of her nineteen year old self, and not seeing any one worth loving. Someone always failing to meet the conditions for love, so why keep trying? 

Catra could see that half of her clear as day now, that mix of fucked up sob laughter as she slipped down the bathroom wall still echoing in her ears, so either Catra had failed to kill that part of her… or she had never really stopped being that person at all.

“You know Catra,” Angella’s voice brought back her two halves together and her spine snapped as she looked up, “I can only have you hospitalized if you are _ currently _planning to take your life, and I would need thorough and conclusive proof of your desire to do so. There’s nothing I can do, or even have to do, about what happened when you were younger.”

“Hmmph,” Catra mumbled. _ Wait for it... _

A beat passed. “But you’re a smart enough young woman to know that I have to ask.” _ There it is. _“Are you-”

“No,” she growled. “I’m not going to do anything,” _ cause even _ I _ know that’s over reacting, _ “so you don’t need to monitor me for seventy two hours or whatever bullshit regulation you have to follow. I’m just a little freaked out, ok? It isn’t very fun to hear the girl you’ve loved your _ whole _ life say she loves you back for the first time- of course, she can’t even say it to me not hopped up on drugs, so what the fuck does it matter anyway?- and remember how badly it hurt the last time, and _ first _ time, someone said it! That’s _ all _!” 

_ Bet crises with Glimmer never prepared you for likes of this, huh, Angie? _

A hand squeezed Catra’s shoulder and her entire body seized in retaliation as Catra looked up. “Catra, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened _ after _your attempt on your life… failed?”

Well that was _ not _what Catra was expecting her to say.

“I left Arizona. For _ good. _There was nothing there for me anyway, just people who wanted to see me hurt.” Catra forced her gaze to the ceiling, hoping the gravity that came with turning her head up pushed her sob down. 

“And came here?”

“Not right away.” Catra shook her head. “There was... a lot of couch surfing in between. _ A lot. _ I couldn’t hold down a job and I kept flunking out of community college because if you haven’t noticed, I’m very good at making people hate me.” Angella raised another unamused eyebrow and Catra burrowed further into herself. “Okay, maybe I… I just never wanted to be in that position again, the one that made me, you know… So I never stayed anywhere too long. The only reason I lasted as long as I did in Bright Moon was because of…” _ Scorpia. Entrapta. Adora. And now that’s over. I blew it. And I completely overstayed my fucking welcome. _“I was just stupid I guess.”

“So, what now?” asked Angella, again.

“I don’t know, _ doctor! _ I know about as much as you know! That Adora almost _ died, _ got high and told me she loved me and since then you have asked me ‘what now’ four times, successfully learning that I had a severely fucked up childhood _ and _ that I tried to kill myself before I turned twenty _ and _ that I came really close to being homeless before I got here! _ I, _on the other hand, have learned nothing! Except that I’m- I’m unstable and no smarter than I was when I was seven years old!” Catra deflated back into her seat with a hiss. Okay, she was going to have to stop doing that, that whole rage fit in Angella’s direction, because her body really couldn’t take it anymore. Her shoulders had squared up, her bones solidified in the position, and Catra knew she’d crossed the threshold. The pain was officially in the paralyzing state, and there would be no more playing whatever game the hospital administrator was orchestrating, unless the doctor really wanted to see her vomit into the nearby plant. What? It was already on death’s doorstep.

_ I just wanted some fucking sleep this weekened! Why does this _ always _ happen to me?! _

“Why did you even sit here and put up with me?” Catra, eyes closed, mumbled against the piercing ache above her eyes and the sick warmth it dripped down her face. “What? Do you want something, too?” _ Vultures. Ugh, this stupid city is full of them. _

“Well, I’m not sure why you would think I would _ want _something from you Catra, but if you would like to say I got something out of this time and this conversation other than your rather unique company, you did get me out of my sister-in-law’s party. We can call it even.”

Catra laughed despite the iron grip of agonizing heat on her jaw. “I can’t believe you ditched your daughter there. And seem perfectly fine with it, too.”

“This was your first party with my late husband’s relative, I’m sure you’ll understand once you and Adora do make it to one.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Catra scoffed again, inviting the pain to flow through her nostrils. “Besides, Glimmer is more capable than I often give her credit for.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“She also, unlike the rest of us, has Bow.”

Okay was Angella trying to _ kill _her? Cause everytime the woman opened her mouth Catra ended up laughing and incentivizing the invisible knives stabbing all of her open pores. “True.”

“Catra, I know this is not my place to say,” Angella started and Catra winced because _ oh we’re going back to this shit again? I’d rather laugh for four hours with this bitch of a migraine than go back to our mom-therapy session. _“But I want to make sure you approach this new problem with Adora right.”

“Why? Why do you care?” asked Catra, turning away from her and moving her fetal position to the other side of this super comfortable hospital waiting room chair. 

“Because I know how much Adora cares for you. I know that even to some degree, my daughter and Bow care for you. Haven’t you suffered enough Catra?” Angella kept talking, kept pressing, kept being motherly for no good reason. What a waste it was on Catra.

“And I… I know better than anyone, what it feels like to be a coward.”

“I am _ not _ a- ahh!” Catra’s hand flew to her face as her attempt to turn her snarl on Angella fell to shambles. “Son of a _ bitch!” _

Angella’s hand was cold as it came to lay over Catra’s own hand. Even in the blurry depths of her chronic agony could Catra smell the antibacterial soap. It was the most mom action anyone had bothered to spare her in 22 years. “I know you’re scared, Catra. You can hide it all you want, but you showed me your cards this evening. Without almost any pressing I know that you’re scared of what this revelation means for the both of you.”

“So?” Catra basically sobbed into her hand.

“So don’t let it win this time, Catra. You have a choice. You can do this, you can stay and face how you feel and how Adora feels, even if she isn’t ready to say it post anesthesia. Or you can run away, like you did before. Your third option is one I don’t care to say, but feel legally required to do so: I could make a few calls and have you committed, which I _ will _do if I need to.” Angella’s voice didn’t waver and Catra, face shaking against her touch, swallowed. “Adora’s already lost too many people she’s loved, I will do everything in my power to keep that from happening again.”

Catra’s face fell. “Yes- yes ma’am.”

“I trust you to make the right decision, Catra,” finished Angella.

“H-how? You only spent like forty five minutes with me!” she tried to shout, but in protest the pain pulsing through Catra’s body pushed her to the back of the chair.

“Well,” Angella shrugged and reached over for her iPad, “it’s been quite an eye-opening forty five minutes.”

_

By the time Adora was discharged from the surgical suite and into a regular overnight room, Catra had fallen asleep and when she woke up, groggy and suspended in a post paralysis state of pain, Angella was gone. 

A squeak left her mouth as Catra yawned. _ Is there a blanket on me? _ Pushing against her locked joints, she stretched her limbs out and forced her eyes open only to find her first observation to be the right one: there was a hospital issued blanket draped over her shoulders, the fabric scrunched up between the fingers of her left fist. _ When did someone give me a blanket? _

“Oh, did Angella finally go back to her _job_?” Catra sighed as she looked around, finding herself alone in the waiting room. “Ugh, thank God.” Catra had had enough Angella time in this one shitty afternoon to hold her another nine months, at least.

But when Catra shoved the blanket off- _ when did I fall asleep? Are my clothes finally dry?- _ she realized that Angella had not left her entirely alone in the room she was gonna wake up in. In fact, Angella had left Catra something to wake up _ to. _

On the table of outdated and equally pointless magazines was a bottle of water and a tray of hospital cafeteria food complete with a sticky cinnamon bun from the vending machine. Catra’s mouth watered as the smell of the food hit her full force for the first time. Okay, _ maybe _ the hospital cafeteria food didn’t reek or look at all disgusting, and _ maybe _she hadn’t eaten in hours because she chose to sleep while Scorpia packed for her instead of grabbing breakfast. Right before Catra pushed back any remaining personal pride that had survived the onslaught the day had been and started shoving dried turkey and green beans in her mouth faster than she could chew, she caught the little pink Post-it note Angella had left her on the bottled water.

_ “I apologize Catra, but it appears the hospital does need me after all. I’ve had some food sent up and I bought the sticky bun from the vending machine for you. I remembered that you ate our stock of these when you had your accident last year. I do hope you’re good for the 1.75 it cost me. I anticipate Adora’s bill will do quite a number on my remuneration this month. _

_ I’ll try to come see you before Adora is discharged. Until then, try not to threaten any more of my staff, and have a little faith in yourself for once. _

_ From one coward to another, thank you for spending the afternoon with me.” _

“Hmm,” Catra smirked, dusting the crumbs from her mouth. “Sparkles’ mom comes through after all.”

In a swift movement, Catra pushed the now empty tray away from her and swept up the water bottle, downing half of it as her thoughts traveled to her packed duffle bag still tucked away under the passenger seat of her car. She’d made a lot of stupid moves today, but leaving her overnight bag in what was probably now just a giant pile of ice and snow by now might have been her dumbest. Dumbest _ after _ laying on her cards on the table to an acquaintance's mother; aw, poor Hordak would be _ so _ disappointed in her for making a move like that. Turns out all the time and energy he put into trying to teach her how to hold her own in poker was for nothing. 

The little white Excedrin pills at the bottom of her toiletries bag couldn’t be any farther from Catra’s reach right now and she had strong doubts any of these rule stickler nurses with their bunched up panties were gonna lend her any of the good stuff that would help her head. But, as Catra crushed the empty plastic water bottle in her hands, pulling it away from her mouth and sitting back to take stock of her body, she found herself on the other side of the peak of her migraine. No aching pulse about to implode right over her left eye, just the sore remnants of hours spent in pain. Now, it was just a matter of getting through the rest of the night.

_ Ughhhhhhhh. _

“Miss Catra?” a voice stopped her right as her fingernails started pulling at the plastic wrap of her vending machine cinnamon bun and she looked up, shoulders dropping. _ Oh look! Nurse Jackie’s probably back to tell me they lost Adora’s body while she was in surgery! Great! _“Your girlfriend has been let out of surgery and is now in recovery in room 642.”

_ Adora’s- Adora’s okay. _ Catra’s canine caught her lip mid exhale. _ Told that clutz she’d been fine! She really needs to listen to me about everything, all the time. _

Standing, Catra broadened her shoulders and put her hands on her hips (some much for not threatening any more of Angella’s hospital staff) before spelling it out for the nurse, “And you’re going to take me back there, right?”

“Yeah.” Nurse Jacqueline popped her gum.

Catra didn’t bother wasting what little remaining energy she had with a reply. Cramming the sticky cinnamon bun back in its wrapper, Catra shoved in it her leather jacket pocket _ (for later) _ and followed the nurse down the hall. There was no thinking, no treacherous thoughts or echoing voices of ghosts, there was only this quiet emotion wrapped around her like when Angella draped that hospital blanket and its old people smell on her after she’d fallen asleep in her chair: relief.

And that relief spread through her, satiated her nerves and her whirlwind of other violent emotions as Nurse Jacqueline opened the door to Adora’s room. The light was on, the air was a comfortable temperature for once, and Catra could see the edge of Adora’s bed waiting for her.

Jacqueline’s last piece of instruction stopped Catra before she could fling herself onto the bed and onto Adora: “Here she is. Surgery put her out but she should be awake in an hour or so. You can go on in. Press the button by her bed if you need anything.”

“Um.” Catra rubbed her arm as Jacqueline turned to go. “Thank you. For all- for your help today.”

Shrugging, the nurse popped her gum again. “Yeah, sure, whatever. But also, you should know they shut the city down, so we can’t release her in the morning. You’re stuck here until the storm is over.” 

_ Stuck here with Adora and the fact that she confessed her love to me while high on anesthesia. Stuck here talking to Adora about why she isn’t taking her anti-anxiety meds and why she put off going to the hospital for so long that she almost died... Stuck here, with Adora, probably through the entire weekend that was supposed to be our romantic vacation. _

“Yeah,” said Catra. “I’m fine with that.” 

_

Catra spent most of her time living in Bright Moon opposite to the way she spent her life prior. In Arizona, cowering under covers from Weaver and pushing against the pressure of Hordak’s thumb, Catra was the prey. She was always the hunted, the target, the piece of meat; no matter how hard she fought back, no matter what strategy she employed, Catra was prey. And she was _ everyone’s _ prey. Didn’t matter if they were smaller, or dumber, or _ weaker _than her. 

Catra walked around with a target on her back, and damn if there weren’t extra points for carving her right down the middle. Weaver, Hordak, other fucking foster kids, the paint-huffing dumbasses she went to high school with, racist white girls, cops. You name it and Catra could probably tell you that they’d had it out for her at some point.

So all Catra had wanted, from the minute Mara’s station wagon made that left turn and fell out of her sight forever, taking her best friend and protector with her, was to _ stop _being the prey. For the last thirteen years, Catra thought she could actually make that happen. By being the predator for once, of course. By baring her teeth and her claws and covering herself in impervious armour.

By pushing away anyone who dared to come close, dared to try and be compassionate with her, dared to make her feel like that little girl running barefoot on the pavement from the big kid bullies she was bold enough to scratch and spit on. By forcing strength as she starved herself from any love because love made her feel… weak. And when everything that _ moved _ came for Catra’s neck, feeling weak, _ being _weak, it just wasn’t something Catra could afford. Not if she wanted to keep living, anway.

This fucked up strategy born out of years of abuse and even more years of emotional repression had worked, up to a point, until eleven months ago. Up until eleven months ago, she’d kept Scorpia and Entrapta out at arms length. Up until eleven months ago, Catra kept her gloves on and her claws out, wearing a mask that concealed her true face and made _ her _ the predator. Catra’s hatred of herself had become a living, breathing part of her and really, she was just pushing through the days until she got the one where she didn’t wake up. But hey,at least she could say that for once, she wasn’t anyone’s prey but her own.

Standing here in front of Adora’s hospital bed while the world they knew ended in snow around them, clutching the beige railing, and letting the softness she felt for the woman in front of her consume her now that it was _ just _them- finally- Catra knew she’d never actually been the predator, no matter how hard she’d been pretending she was.

“Hey Adora,” Catra whispered her usual greeting, her gentle voice cutting her _ own _ amour, her _ own _skin to the bone, to this sleeping version of her girlfriend. 

_ I was never the predator, was I? Never the Big Bad. And that person that I saw in Adora’s Polaroids, I didn’t recognize her, I didn’t myself because that isn’t who I _ thought _ I was. That’s why I couldn’t even recognize my own face. _

“You made it through surgery,” Catra spoke out loud as she walked around to Adora’s bedside. “And look at that, you’re alive. Hmm, guess I should get my “I told you so” out before you wake up, huh?”

So what if Catra really wasn’t the person she was pretending to be- and blew up at Angella because that thought did more damage to her psyche than any piece of blatant wisdom the other woman could offer. But if she wasn’t this badass, cut throat lone rider, if she wasn’t the predator stalking prey, then what was she after all of this? After these eleven months of stripping her armor off piece by piece until there was nothing less than her coveted flesh and bone, what had Catra become? Was she just another version of herself that looked like a stranger? Or was she just coming back to a version of herself she’d left behind a long time ago?

That naive little seven year old girl, holding onto a love for her best friend so pure that nothing in the world could corrupt it, take it, destroy it. Not for lack of trying, of course.

Catra took Adora’s fingers in her own, running her thumb across her knuckle. Dozing off whatever pain medication Dr. Mullins had given her, Catra’s girlfriend didn’t put up her usual jerk of a fight when she was touched sleeping. The look on Adora’s face was peaceful in a way that Catra almost didn’t recognize- Adora never let herself fall asleep without a fight that lasted even when her brain made it to REM- but in her hand Catra’s fingers twitched like they itched be drawing her face instead of staring at it.

Angella had called her a coward. Back in October, Netossa stood in Danish clogs and implied it. But despite their every surmounting confidence behind the accusation, Catra- for once- didn’t feel like one.

Knowing, and dating Adora, living in her world and actively participating in it- it should have brought Catra back down to that pathetic status of prey. It should’ve been the act that called open season on Catra. If taking off her armor so that Adora could touch her, really touch her, meant that she was no longer the predator sitting untouchable on the throne, it followed that she would just go back to being chased, to being hunted, to being weak.

Except Catra hadn’t gone back to being the prey, and being Adora’s girlfriend hadn’t actually put that familiar target back on her back. Catra wasn’t the predator- if she ever had been- but she wasn’t the prey either. _ That’s _why she didn’t recognize herself in that Polaroid. 

Because Catra was discovering that she was actually something else entirely.

Easing herself onto the vacant side of Adora’s hospital bed, Catra cradled her girlfriend’s head against her chest. “I’m only saying this cause you’re passed out cold and can’t hear me, but you told me you loved me today. And there’s some things I need to say about that, but I can’t say them to you when you wake up in a couple of hours. Since you can’t even say you love me when you’re sober, I think it’s fair, so suck it dummy.” Catra took a deep breath. Then another. And then,

“I love you. I’ve- I’ve always loved you. Ever since we were little,” Catra continued, her fingers brushing over Adora’s hair, despite the terrifying and very real possibility that if she continued in her touch or in her words, that those ocean eyes would open and find her in this monologue. “And even after...even after you left me to go with Mara. It just, is I dunno? Natural for me. Like being pissed off or just generally grumpy.”

Laughing in spite of herself and her unconscious audience, Catra ran her finger down Adora’s nose, drawing her knees onto the bed and started again, “It hasn’t always looked or felt the same, I mean I’ve been repressing how I feel about you the second Weaver got a fucking clue, and it doesn’t always show as like, a positive emotion.” _ Because I was repressing it. _ “But yeah. I’ve always loved you.”

_ When I was jealous you wanted to spend time with Lonnie instead of me and I hit you right in the face. When you spent all of Mermista’s party paying attention to everyone but me and I got so angry I almost drowned Glimmer. That morning I left for school and you didn’t come with me, when we stood in the kitchen for the last time and you noticed I’d finally got boobs, six months after yours showed up. Last week when you were at my place and doing the dishes, in running shorts and that dumb sports bra cause I took your shirt to sleep in, talking to Scorpia and having genuine interest in her opinions about thoroughbred racehorses. _

Catra ran her hand down Adora’s face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

_ Those endless summer afternoons we spent in blanket forts and you promised that we’d find a life together. When I took your ride request eleven months ago and you woke something in me that I thought I killed back when I tried to kill me. _

“You woke it up dummy, you woke up something I thought wasn’t coming back, just by being you,” Catra sighed, pulling her closer. “And it fucking terrifies me, okay? And it isn’t that I love you or that I’m _ in _ love with you, because _ that _ seems to be a new development, or even how much I love you that scares me, it’s this feeling that I have when I’m with you that’s beyond that.. that I’m _ safe _when I’m with you. And I don’t know who I am when I’m… when I’m safe.”

How was that for an emotional breakthrough? How was that for living her truth, for facing her demons and not bolting for the door the first chance she got? How was that for a wrench in Catra’s plans, that the second she finds someone who worth the risk of letting her guard down for her own identity slipped out from under her? The second she didn’t feel the whole world was coming for her neck, she can’t recognize her own damn reflection?

Whatever. Like she’d ever had a great handle on her sense of self anyway.

Catra, closing her eyes, leaned her head into that empty space between Adora’s shoulder and neck. Her voice was soft as she spoke. “God, I hope you have no memory of this. Cause if you really do love me, then you owe it to me sober, babe. It hurts that _ that’s _ how you finally said it, you know? Since you’re a terrible actress and that’s obviously what you were gonna say all those times you looked like you were about to hurl. It’s not gonna scare me off if you say it either, if that’s what you think is going to happen if you do say it first! I mean, I stayed for _ this _ ! I don’t have any plans to leave or quit on you anytime soon... Is being in love with me really such a _ bad _thing, Adora?” 

_ Or is it just another sentiment, another useless phrase, that you’re gonna rip out of your notebook and hide in your desk drawer forever? _

Exhaling through her nostrils, Catra tried to push that last thought away. ‘Cause if there was anything she’d learn in the last year relearning her love for Adora, it was that she had to give the other woman the benefit of the doubt. Everything- _ everything- _with her was a wakeup call to Catra that she wasn’t the only one hiding from shadows, even as her mid-twenties passed her by. 

And time. Catra owed Adora--the woman forcing herself to forgo Xanax probably because in taking on everyone else’s needs that she learned there wasn’t space to face her own--time to figure out the fear that came with loving someone. Just because Catra knew that fear like the back of her hand, didn’t mean Ms. Don’t-Take-Me-To-The-Hospital-I'd-Rather-Die-Than-Inconvenience-Someone knew it too. 

Catra waited all her life for Adora to love her in the same way she always had. She could wait a little longer.

“I guess that means you’re never gonna say it, huh? Especially not when I act like this all the fucking time.” Mumbling, Catra pushed her boots off her feet and stuck her legs down Adora’s comforter, “So, I guess that means I’m gonna say it first, doesn’t it? Ugh whatever, it was always probably gonna go down that way anyway.” 

Catra yawned and her hand found Adora’s as she snuggled around her sleeping form tighter.

“Looks like I got to be the big spoon after all, babe. Ha ha.”

Maybe Adora coming this close to death from something completely preventable was the kick in the teeth Catra needed to see what was in front of her plain as day: that she’d stepped into Adora’s world (literally in some ways) and shed her front as the predator and her past as the prey, and become the protector. Catra had returned to the version of herself she only knew in her oldest memories, that little girl who gave love and affection without expecting exchange. That kitten who’d been forged into a lioness by her love for Adora, her urge to keep Adora from pain that much stronger than her desire to be loved by her in return. 

This broken shattered thing inside her that was her way of loving, of feeling that molotov cocktail of explosive emotions, that cancerous sensation that felt so much like weakness,that was her connection to love inside her coming _ back _ to her. Waking up inside her. All those people that had only caused her suffering- Selena, Mrs. Weaver, Hordak, Lonnie, _ Them.- _also shattered love into a million pieces living in her lungs like glass. And the pain that Catra felt wasn’t just the pain that came with shedding the past; it was the pain that came with healing, as all those splintered pieces inside her came back together, back to her heart. The beautiful agony of being made whole once more. 

It didn’t make taking the jump any less daunting. It didn’t protect her from a world trying to kill her, didn’t give her a stronger form that could withstand being broken again. Catra knew the world wasn’t done trying to kill her. It hadn’t thrown everything it had at her- and a blizzard was pretty weak shit, Catra would say now that she’d survived one- and she couldn’t really see the universe getting bored with fucking around with her anytime soon. But maybe… maybe Catra didn’t need to worry about that right now, or ever. Not when she had found Adora, now that she had her again and was under no fucking circumstances, ever letting go. 

Here with Adora wrapped in her arms, Catra was safe.

Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell I'm from the southern part of the U.S and the not the north?
> 
> I’d love to hear your thoughts! Did you catch any Easter eggs? ;) (and if you’re in the mood for hurting more, the song that inspired most of the end was “finally/ beautiful stranger” and if this was a visual story, that’s what you would hear playing at the end)
> 
> Shout out to Jae and big super thank you to Jem for beta’ing. I appreciate your help and even more so your patience with me!
> 
> thank you guys for reading! I know this one was pretty long, but the reason for that is because there was still some significant ground I had to cover to get to the sequel, and the most important piece that got a few thousand words in this one was the notebook pages. 
> 
> Now I feel like I should say that if you’re worried that I’m gonna do exactly what Noelle didn’t want to do, I promise you: the sequel is still going to be about Catra and Adora, and actual She-Ra characters. 100%. And I am so excited to explore all the stuff- and characters- of in the in-universe canon that I haven’t gotten to really get into.
> 
> the sequel will be called cruel summer, and if you’ve made this far that means the next part is the sequel! gahhhh I’m so excited! I’ve literally been planning this for so long you guys don’t even know! 
> 
> one more thing before I let you go: alexryzhy did some [AMAZING art](https://princessofgayskull.tumblr.com/post/619469249583398912/alexryzhy-say-youll-see-me-again-okay-so) for upper west side and I haven’t stopped freaking out about it since they posted it. 
> 
> come find me on tumblr at [princessofgayskull](https://princessofgayskull.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please leave a note telling me what you think! I love y'all so much!
> 
> thank you to [johannas_motivational_insults](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johannas_Motivational_Insults/pseuds/Johannas_Motivational_Insults) for beta'ing! check out her work! it's pique content.
> 
> fun fact about me, I've never owned a cat! I really do love them, but my family is allergic so I've never had one. I think they are great animals though. :)  
do you guys remember the eyewitness books? those were the shit!!!!!! my book was the one about whales, as a little girl they were my cats. 
> 
> oh and the Schitt's Creek references- I've been watching the show (and I highly recommend  
it!) and put them in there because I decided I am the moira rose of fanfiction.  
come say hi/scream about She Ra with me on [my tumblr](https://princessofgayskull.tumblr.com/post/188172960130/artbutitsgay-i-had-to-draw-this-drunk-adora)
> 
> also: important note- would you guys like a sequel? like a *sequel* sequel, with multiple chapters and plot? I have enough material and it would encompass a lot of what the new seasons are bringing forward. Let me know!


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